Determinant: One choice changes everything
by Windchimed
Summary: This is an alternate 3rd book to the "Divergent" series. It takes place immediately after "Insurgent" and is told from both Tris' and Tobias' POVs but using Tobias' voice from the short stories (since his voice from "Allegiant" sounds too much like Tris'). This is intended to be a full-length book. Spoiler: Right up front, I'll tell you that I'm not going to kill Tris or Tobias.
1. Chapter 1: Tris - Aftermath

_Disclaimer: I do not own the Divergent world or any of the characters. Those belong to Veronica Roth._

**Chapter 1: Tris – Aftermath**

The shouts fill the room, making it impossible to understand a word as everyone demands answers at once. I had forgotten how many Candor were here, but now their loud voices are everywhere. Briefly, I remember Tobias' first words to Christina, complaining about Candor smart-mouths, and I think maybe he's right.

His hand grips mine tightly as he looks around the room, his eyes wide and alarmed. At first, I'm too short to see through the crowd, but then a path clears for just a moment, and I see Evelyn. She's still standing by Jeanine's body, and the fury on her face sends a shiver down my spine. In that instant, I'm certain she already knew about this video and she didn't want it shown. Maybe that's why she was so insistent on destroying Erudite's information. If so, she must not have shared that fact with her son, because his expression makes it clear he knew nothing about the contents of the video. In fact, it's obvious he just saw it for the first time. For a moment, my stomach squeezes with pleasure. _He didn't watch it first, before showing it to everyone._ He must have trusted my judgment even after he thought I betrayed him.

I tug on Tobias' hand to get his attention, and he leans close to hear me.

"We need to get out of here," I say.

"Yes, we do." He hesitates for a second and then reaches down to help Christina to her feet, supporting her weight to spare her injured leg. At the sight, an unexpected and totally irrational pang of jealousy goes through me. It's ridiculous, and at first I don't even know why I feel it, but then I figure it out. I've almost never seen him touch anyone else. He helped Will and Shauna when they were injured, and now he's helping Christina, but other than that, he only touches me. How did I never notice that before?

"Come on," he says to Cara, and lacing his free hand into mine, he starts toward the back corner of the room, Christina limping alongside him. One of the factionless soldiers starts to approach us, but Tobias looks her right in the eye and says firmly, "They're here by mistake. They're not traitors. I'm taking her to get medical attention." The soldier hesitates but then lets us pass, and I remember that the name Tobias Eaton is powerful here.

As we cross the room, Uriah joins us. Lynn's blood still spots his shirt, and his eyes are bloodshot from crying, but he gives me a small smile and walks with us unquestioningly. Behind him, I see Tori watching us, her eyes narrowed. Her gaze rests on Tobias for a moment, and I see hatred in the set of her mouth. Of course she must feel that way. Evelyn betrayed Dauntless by announcing the end of the factions, and here Tobias is walking away freely. She must feel that Evelyn's son was in on the plot. I think she's probably right.

Tori's eyes meet mine, and for a second I'm sure that she's going to give us away. After all, I just reinjured her leg to keep her from killing Jeanine. But instead Tori nods stiffly and turns away, and I understand why. I was definitely not part of Evelyn's plot. I was clearly acting on my own, and I released information that Evelyn didn't want released. There's an expression so old I don't even know where I learned it, but it seems to apply now. _The enemy of my enemy is my friend._ I don't want that to be the only bond between me and Tori, after all the help she's given me, but for now I have to accept it.

Tobias leads us to an exit at the back of the room, and we walk between two more factionless guards and out of the building. Just like that, we're free again.

"Where are we going?" I ask.

To my surprise, it's Christina who answers. "To my family's apartment in Candor headquarters."

"That won't be safe for long," Tobias says, "but I suppose we can at least get supplies there."

"So," Uriah asks easily, "are we outlaws now or what?"

Tobias' mouth crooks into a small smile. "Maybe," he answers. "But I am Tobias Eaton after all."

* * *

Christina's family has a surprisingly large apartment, or maybe it just seems that way since I've only ever seen Abnegation houses and Tobias' small apartment at Dauntless.

They have two bedrooms, one with a bed that seems massive to me and one with two beds the size of mine back in my parents' house. Christina and her sister must have shared that one before Christina transferred. There's also a nicely decorated living room, a huge kitchen, a dining room, and what seems almost like a second living room. I can't quite picture how it would be used in daily life.

Christina sits on the couch, a bandage wrapped around her leg – the results of Cara's careful ministrations. The rest of us are draped around the living room, staring at each other in exhaustion. By now, it's dark out, and it's been an extreme day, but we can't rest yet.

"We should plan to leave tonight or tomorrow morning, before dawn," Tobias tells us. "We'll need medical supplies, blankets, food, clothing… enough for a few days at least. Christina, where can we get those?"

Before she can answer, I address Tobias. "Where are we going?"

He shrugs, his expression grim. "Initially, to an abandoned building, I guess. Somewhere with no one else. That'll be the safest place for now. In the morning, I'll talk to my mother and see where things stand, and then we'll figure out a longer-term plan."

No one suggests a different idea, and eventually I nod. Christina begins describing where we can find supplies, and we all set out to retrieve them. Tobias goes with me to get the blankets, since that's a two-person job.

The supply room is unlocked. I guess the Candor are too honest for theft. Things weren't locked in Abnegation, either – there, everyone was too selfless to take something they didn't need. I smile a little at the thought.

"What?" Tobias asks, and I realize I was looking in his direction as I smiled.

"Nothing, really," I reply. "I was just trying to imagine my parents stealing blankets. Or anyone from Abnegation stealing anything. Well… except us."

Tobias looks at me, a sad smile quirking his mouth. "That's my girl. Selfless enough to offer her life to save strangers but too selfish to freeze at night." I wince at the words. He hasn't pressed me about giving myself up to Jeanine, but I know it's because he feels I've been through enough already, not because it didn't hurt him. I don't know what to say. When they injected me with what I thought was death serum, I realized I didn't want to die after all, but I still think I did the right thing in going to Erudite. I couldn't let people continue to die, and I couldn't let Tobias go in my place.

"Yeah, well, as it turns out, I'd prefer to live," I finally say. Tobias steps closer to me, his eyes searching mine, and I suspect he's trying to figure out if I'm lying or not. I suppose I deserve that, after lying to him so many times.

After a long while, he replies in a low voice, "I'd certainly prefer that too." And he fits his mouth gently to mine. I wrap both hands around the back of his head, holding him to me for a moment, and then I release him.

"I know we need to talk more," I say. "Soon. But for now, maybe we can just both agree to be honest with each other. No more lying and no more hiding stuff."

Tobias' expression is hesitant, and he takes a long time to think about his response. Finally, he says, "I've spent my entire life keeping secrets, Tris. You may not realize this, but I've revealed more of them to you than to anybody else, ever. I really have. But it's hard – every time, it's hard to do that, and I find myself keeping them again no matter how much I try not to." He sighs, kneading at the back of his neck.

"I know it causes problems," he continues, and his voice is rough now. "I know it's not fair to you, and I even know it's part of why you keep lying to me. But I don't know how to be any other way." His eyes are intense and desperate on mine.

For a moment, I think about what his life has been like. His father abused him for so many years, and for whatever reasons, he felt compelled to hide that abuse. His mother faked her death, and when he found out she was alive, he had to keep that secret hidden, too, to keep her safe. I don't know when he learned he was Divergent, but he's been hiding that ever since, along with hiding that same fact for every initiate who revealed their own Divergence to him during simulations. And then when he realized he liked me, he couldn't show that to Eric, so it became something else he had to hide. That was the base of secrets he already had when his mother convinced him to work with her. And then he layered on more in that process.

But the thing is… I already know about all that, and he's still looking at me that way. So, what else is he hiding?

"Are you telling me that you have even more secrets? _Still?_"

He looks away, and I think he must be struggling with himself. Eventually, he looks at me again and says heavily, "I traded Dauntless for you. Evelyn wanted to get rid of the factions completely, and that was the price she demanded for speeding up the timeframe. You know, so they'd attack before you were supposed to be executed." His expression is bitter. "And then Jeanine moved up the execution, and it all would have been for nothing if Peter and Caleb hadn't helped you."

I stare, more shocked by his last revelation than anything else. "Caleb?" I say loudly. "What's he got to do with anything?"

Tobias shakes his head. "I shouldn't have said that. It's probably not even true… But when I made him access Jeanine's computer, he told me that he helped Peter fake your execution." He pauses and then adds, "I'm usually good at telling when people lie, but it's harder when my emotions are strong, and that was… well… right after you accused me of not loving you…" His voice trails off, and he looks away again.

I don't know what to think. I want to believe that Caleb helped me. I really do, but if it's true, then I just left him in Erudite headquarters to be tried as a traitor.

"You were wrong, by the way," Tobias says, swallowing hard. "I do love you." His voice is rough with emotion. "More than I've ever loved anyone. More than I thought I could." He closes his eyes and adds, "When I was under the simulation, I thought you were dead. I guess that was the only way the program could get me to leave you behind and go back to Dauntless, so it tricked me into thinking that. And I couldn't bear it. I couldn't face the thought of that becoming real, so when you surrendered to Jeanine, I did whatever it took to save you. That was all I could think about."

There's shame on his face, but I'm too stunned to say anything. I thought he helped Evelyn because he believed in getting rid of the factions, not because he couldn't stand to have me die. I think back to the expression on his face when he told me that he wouldn't be all right without me, that it was a lie to say he would be. I should have recognized his desperation, but I was so convinced that I had to die to make up for my parents' sacrifice, to make up for shooting Will, that I couldn't see anything except what I already believed. Ironically, I was too selfish to see what my great act of selflessness did to him.

I reach out and take his hands gently. His dark eyes lock on mine, as he waits for me to pass judgment on him.

"While we're being honest," I say quietly, "I should tell you that a large part of why I surrendered to Jeanine is that I didn't want you to go. Because I love you too."

He laughs bitterly. "Great. So, how do we go forward, then? We seem to end up in every dangerous situation in this city, and now it turns out there are dangers outside the city just waiting for us, and it's obvious that you're exactly who Amanda Ritter said they want."

I nod slowly, because I know he's right. None of the serums worked on me, no matter how hard Jeanine tried, and I know without being told that the group Amanda Ritter mentioned needs people like that. People who can resist whatever made those eyes turn blank and dead in the video as their bodies turned into murderers.

"I'm not someone who can sit back and let other people face all the danger," I say. "Particularly when I'm the person who's supposed to face it."

Tobias' posture sags a little, and he sounds resigned as he says, "I know. And I love that you're so brave. I really do... It's just that I've thought I lost you twice now, and I think a third time would kill me."

For a long moment, we just look at each other. I know what he means, because when I think about the idea of losing him, of having his life seep out of him, I want to lock him up somewhere safe and never let anyone near him ever again. But we live in a dangerous world, and we need to find a way to face those dangers.

"I guess we go together," I finally say. "If we leave the city, we do it together, and we face whatever comes as a team. No more secrets. No more lies. No more unnecessary risks. Just the ones that really need us."

Tobias hesitates another moment, but then he nods, swallowing hard again. "Okay," he says.

"You don't have any _more_ secrets, do you?" I ask.

He gives a little, nervous laugh. "Not really."

"That's not very convincing," I say, but I can't help smiling a little at his expression.

He steps closer, leaning toward me so his face is by mine and his breath tickles my ear. "Well, there may be a couple more, about how you make me feel, and what I'd like to do with you, but I figure I'll share those later."

A sudden rush of longing goes through me, and I slide my fingers through his hair and pull him to me, pressing my mouth to his. His arms wrap around me, his hands moving down my back and resting on my hips as he holds me to him. For a few minutes, we kiss with an urgency that fills me, that overwhelms me and makes me forget everything else. There's nothing but him, him, him and I don't care about anything else.

Finally, he pulls back with a reluctant expression, his breathing hard and ragged.

"We have a lot to do," he says, and it sounds like it's difficult for him to talk. It must be difficult for me to talk, too, because nothing comes out of my mouth in response, and I simply nod. There's an empty ache where his body was, and I can't help but think about what we might have done next if we hadn't stopped when we did. And I know that soon I won't want to stop then.

"Okay," I say at last, remembering why we came here in the first place. I begin filling my arms with blankets and add, "I'll let you keep those particular secrets a little longer then."

He smiles as he gathers his own pile of blankets. "No, you've convinced me. No more secrets. I'm just going to have to share them. That's clearly the best policy."

"Well," I say as I head out the door, barely able to see over the blankets. "I guess a rule's a rule…"

_Please take a moment to write a review. This is the first chapter, and I need to know what works and what doesn't in it. That will help me tremendously with the next chapter. (And guests can write reviews too - you don't need an account - so please take the time to do that.) Thanks!_


	2. Chapter 2: Tobias - Entering the Fire

**Chapter 2: Tobias – Entering the Fire**

I wake up at 3:30, as I have every morning since Tris went to Erudite headquarters. That's what time it was when I woke up and found her gone, and it's now imprinted on my brain better than any alarm clock.

She's still lying next to me, curled on her side, and for a moment, I just wrap an arm around her and hold her close. It's always amazing to me how much strength I draw from her presence. I could actually fall back asleep now, for once, but it's time to get up. When we returned to the apartment last night, the others were already asleep, and Tris convinced me we should wait until the early morning before relocating.

I place my mouth close to her face and say gently, "It's time." She groans and swats at me, but I catch her hand and add, "Tris. We need to get up now." She sits up with a sigh, running her fingers through her hair. It's been growing longer again, though it will take years to reach its former length, if she even decides to let it grow.

"Are the others up yet?" she asks groggily.

"No," I answer. "I thought I'd let you have the joy of waking them."

There's very little light in the room, so I can't see her expression, but she shifts to the side of the bed and gets up. At first, it seemed kind that the others left us the room with the big bed, and I know I slept better with Tris next to me, but it felt strange sleeping on such an enormous mattress. We spent the night tucked into one corner of it, like we'd lose each other in the vastness if we stretched out more. I suppose it's another Abnegation instinct – it feels selfish to use something bigger than we need.

We make our way out of the dark room, and Tris goes to the room next door to rouse Christina and Cara. I walk to the couch where Uriah is sprawled, half his body trailing to the floor. I'm not really sure why he joined us when we escaped. He didn't have to, since he hadn't been labeled a traitor, and in a way I would have preferred him to stay at Erudite headquarters. That way, we would have had another friend inside, and he would have been safer. I still feel an obligation to Zeke to keep his brother safe. He's never said anything to me about it, but it's the kind of thing friends do for each other.

"Uriah," I say loudly, shaking his shoulder, and he jumps. "That's enough beauty sleep."

He drags all the parts of himself together and shifts to a sitting position, rubbing his eyes. "Maybe that's enough for you," he says, "but some of us are prettier and need more sleep to stay that way." I grin – it's hard not to like Uriah. He and Zeke share the same sense of humor, and after years of being so isolated, I find I really enjoy laughing with them.

"So, why exactly do we have to leave?" Uriah asks as he gets to his feet, stretching in a way that makes the whole room seem full of his limbs.

"Because the factionless will be clearing the building soon, and I don't want them to catch our little group of traitors."

"Clearing the building?" Cara asks as she helps Christina down the hallway from the second bedroom. Christina has a crutch now, but she's clearly not good at maneuvering it yet. Cara is hovering by her, her hand reaching forward and jerking back spasmodically with every step Christina takes. "Why would they do that?"

I sigh. I told Tris the truth last night, but I didn't really want the others to know I was part of the factionless plan. Still, I suppose they're entitled to answers if they're going to follow me into the unknown.

"Because they want to eliminate all the factions," I reply heavily. "So they're planning to gather everyone together in the Erudite compound, group them into new living units, and distribute them across the various faction buildings. I think they'll probably go to Amity first, since most of the Candor are already at Erudite, but they'll come here soon enough to collect anyone who's left."

"You mean, the Divergent population," Tris comments as she emerges from behind Christina. Her expression is alert now, her eyes alive with that look that always draws me to her. I step closer to her automatically but then stop, remembering our focus here.

"Yes, the Divergent who didn't reveal themselves when Jack Kang asked them to. Everyone else is presumably dead or at Erudite now."

There's a long pause after that comment, and then Tris says, "Maybe we should warn them."

"About what?" I ask. "They're not in any danger from the factionless. In fact, they're probably safer now than they've ever been. We're the ones who need to hide."

Christina looks down at her leg and says, "You know, maybe we should take our chances at trial. I mean, we didn't really do anything that wrong…"

"We showed the video," Tris answers for me. "And Evelyn definitely did not like that." For a moment, I just look at Tris. I hadn't quite figured out why I felt so compelled to get them out of there. I assumed it was just because I didn't want Tris back in an Erudite cell, no matter what the circumstances around it might be, but now I realize she's right. My mother is certainly not the forgiving type, and the expression on her face yesterday was disturbing. I haven't seen her that angry in a long time, and I definitely do not want that anger directed at Tris.

"You know what?" I say. "Let's get moving. We can talk more when we're somewhere safer." I look at the pile of supplies and realize it will take at least three trips, particularly since Christina can't carry anything and someone will have to keep their hands free to help her. "Let's start with a light load first and find a location, and then a few of us can come back for the rest."

* * *

It takes us close to two hours to find a suitable abandoned building and to get everything moved into it. I'm careful to make sure we're not followed. Years of avoiding the Dauntless cameras has made me good at moving without being noticed, but the others are too careless, and Christina is impossible to hide. I'm glad we're moving in the dead of night.

Once everyone is settled in, I pull Tris to the side. "I'm going to go talk to my mother," I tell her. "I'll wait until it's safe to come back here, so it might be after dark." I don't want her to worry about me and come looking.

"I want to go with you," she says immediately, but I laugh.

"That would kind of defeat the point of hiding you from her," I respond with a smile.

She considers that for a moment and then says, "But we're supposed to face things together. That's the deal, right?"

I shake my head. "That doesn't apply to this. It's not dangerous for me to talk to my mother, but it would be an unnecessary risk for you to go."

It's too dark to see her face, but I can sense her hesitation. Finally, she says, "I just need to know about Caleb. I need to know if he really helped me or not, and what they're going to do to him."

"I know," I say gently. "I'll find out. I'll talk to Peter or something, and then we'll figure out what to do. Together. Okay?"

"Okay," she says after a moment, and then she finds my face in the darkness and kisses me. It's a light kiss, but I pull her into my arms and kiss her back more firmly. I'm not going into danger, but after the last few weeks, I still feel like every kiss could be our last. I won't squander the opportunity to kiss her like I mean it.

* * *

It's not that long a walk to Erudite, not nearly long enough for my comfort. I wish we were miles away, but of course Christina isn't up to the walk.

As I get closer, I begin to see factionless soldiers patrolling the streets. They stare at me openly but let me pass. That's a good sign; it means that my mother hasn't issued any orders regarding me. I know she'll be angry that I disappeared, and that I took the others with me, but at least she's still willing to talk.

I enter Erudite headquarters, my stomach clenching at the familiar sight. I've entered this room twice now – once when I turned myself in to join Tris, walking through here with pain twisting my body and mind, and once as we shot our way through innocent people to wrest control from Jeanine. I'd be happy never to see this place again.

I pause next to one of the factionless guards by the door. She's dressed in an Erudite blue shirt with Amity red pants, and a tattoo climbs up her neck and disappears into her gray hair. She was probably Dauntless before she grew too old to live there. She brings to mind everyone the faction system discarded, and I remember that I don't really disagree with my mother on the need to change things. It's just a question of how to do it.

The guard's eyes widen a little in recognition as she looks at me, and I smile briefly at her. "Where are the Dauntless sleeping?" I ask casually.

Her mouth puckers as she considers her answer, and then she says, "I'll take you there. I'm not good at giving directions."

We walk the winding hallways of this building I hate so much, and I try to close my mind to the images that creep in. Tris, pale and weak, almost ghostlike, being led by Peter to whatever new torture Jeanine had designed. Watching her scream and scream under the fear serum until I gave up and revealed the location of the factionless safe houses. Pressing my head to the window for a last glimpse of her before she walked to her death. Seeing her limp body in Peter's arms before he told me she was alive. Almost every horror that haunts me at night resides in this building. It's no wonder I can't let her go back to a cell here.

But I keep my body upright and solid and my face expressionless as I walk beside the factionless guard. A lifetime of hiding my pain makes it almost easy, and this is no place to show weakness.

The guard stops at the end of a hallway and says, "They're mostly in the rooms along here. Are you looking for anyone in particular?"

"A couple of people," I answer. "Do you happen to know which room is Zeke's?" She scrunches her face thoughtfully, and I add, "His girlfriend Shauna uses a wheelchair, so they'll be in an accessible room."

"Oh, right," she says as her face brightens. "I know who they are. They're probably over here." Leading me down the hallway, she pauses next to a closed door. "I'm pretty sure this is it. It's kind of early to interrupt them, though. Are you sure you don't want to wait a while?"

"That's okay," I say. "He's an early riser." He's definitely not, but after all the pranks he's pulled on me over the years, I have no objection to rousing him unexpectedly.

"Okay, then. I assume you can find your way back?" I nod, and she leaves me there to return to her duties.

I smile a little as I knock as loudly as possible, in an urgent, rapid pattern. It doesn't take long for Zeke to throw the door open, standing there in nothing but shorts, his hair tousled and his face alarmed. For a second, he blinks against the light in the hallway, and then he recognizes me.

"Four. What's wrong?"

"Nothing. This is just your friendly wake-up call." He glares at first, but then a smile begins to tug at his mouth.

"Fine," he says. "What do you want?"

"We need to chat privately. Throw some pants on and come with me."

"What, are you afraid people will be blinded by my dazzling beauty?" he asks, striking an absurdly provocative pose.

"Yes, I'm afraid I won't be able to control myself."

"Well, out of consideration for you, then…" and he walks back into the room, closing the door behind him.

As I wait, I wander up the hallway, looking into some of the rooms with open doors. They're set up as large dormitories, with beds crammed tightly into each space. My mother must be housing all of Dauntless here while she tries to figure out her next steps. It's still very early, so almost everyone is asleep, but I think I spot Peter sitting on a bed in one of the rooms. Good. I'll be back to talk with him later.

Zeke joins me, and we walk wordlessly down the hallway. We both worked in the Dauntless control room, so we tend to assume we're always under surveillance. We won't talk until we're somewhere safer.

Two hallways down, Zeke leads me into a men's bathroom. I raise an eyebrow, and he says, "Well, I did just get up. Besides, it's as private a space as we'll find." I suppose I can't argue with that.

I look away as he does his business. I've never been comfortable with urinals. Abnegation doesn't believe in exposing that much of yourself to anyone else, except for your spouse. Even then, I think wryly, they probably hide in the darkness.

It's difficult to find a place to look. There's the mirror, of course, but I don't really like to look at my reflection. Part of it comes from my childhood, from Abnegation's restrictions on mirrors, but it's also that I don't really like how I look. Tris always acts like I'm handsome, and I love that she sees me that way, but I know my ears stick out too far and my nose is too long and hooked. She's much better looking than I am.

"Okay, I'm done," Zeke says, amused that I always refuse to watch him in here, and he crosses to the sink to wash his hands.

Turning to face him, I begin, "I had to leave yesterday," but he interrupts me.

"Yeah, I know. I can't blame you, though I gotta ask why you took Uri with you. I mean, the kid's a little dim sometimes, but he's family."

"I didn't take him. He followed on his own like a stray dog. You must have been forgetting to feed him again."

"Oh, man, I knew I forgot something…" But then his face grows more serious as he studies me. "Tris may be in real trouble, you know. Your mother was not exactly amused by that video, and I don't get the feeling she likes your girlfriend."

"No, she doesn't." I shift uncomfortably. "How did she handle the situation after I left?"

He sighs, running a wet hand through his hair. "She said the video was a lie that Jeanine put together and she _forbade_ all discussion of it. Seriously, she used that word, just like an Erudite or something."

"And how did people respond?"

"By discussing it, of course." He grins. "Quietly, though. No one wants to start another battle, at least not yet. Besides, if we're going to fight for something right now, it should probably be the factions, shouldn't it? Not some unknown group outside the city." He quirks an eyebrow at me, and I know he's waiting for me to explain my role in ending the factions. He's shown remarkable loyalty in talking to me at all, I realize slowly, but it won't exactly help for me to confirm his suspicions about what I did.

"Yeah," I say after a moment. "Is anyone planning to do anything about that, or about the video? Because I'd like to help if they are."

"Not that I've heard. Sorry."

I nod, disappointed, though I'm not entirely sure why. I don't really want us to return to the faction system, and I don't want to face another battle, either inside or outside the city. I would love to just move forward to a quieter life with Tris… But that doesn't seem likely.

"If you're around, I'll let you know if I hear anything," Zeke offers after a moment.

"Yeah, thanks. I don't know if I'll be around or not. I still need to talk to Evelyn, but if I can come by again, I will. And I'll try to keep Uriah out of trouble." I smile a little, and Zeke grins gratefully.

He wipes the remaining water from his hands onto his pants and crosses the room. "While I'm here…" he says cheerily as he approaches the vending machine on the wall, the one that's also in most of the Dauntless men's rooms. It's something else I've never felt comfortable with, but now I notice it with a new curiosity. Zeke twists the knob, grabbing the package as it's dispensed, and then he turns to me. "You want any?" he asks, smiling slyly.

For a long moment, I hesitate. The Abnegation in me says that I shouldn't even be considering this before I'm married, but the rest of me doesn't seem to agree anymore. And after the way Tris kissed me last night… maybe it's a good idea to be prepared, just in case.

"Yeah," I finally say, holding out my palm. I try to keep my expression placid as I look straight ahead, but I can feel the redness entering my face, and I'm sure Zeke will say something to embarrass me even more.

But to my surprise, he just looks at me levelly and says quietly, "Good for you, man." And he drops the package in my hand before turning to get another one from the machine. I shove it into my pocket without looking at it. And then we leave the room, heading back to the Dauntless dorms, quiet again in the hallways.

**_Please take a moment to write a review. They help a lot! Thanks!_**


	3. Chapter 3: Tris - Ruminations

**Chapter 3: Tris – Ruminations**

After Tobias leaves, the others collapse back into sleep, snuggled into piles of blankets on the floor. But my mind is too full, so I wander this empty building that's become our temporary home. It's filled with apartments that must have been occupied once, but like so much of the city, everything was cleared out neatly before it was abandoned, and the rooms now echo with emptiness.

As with so many other buildings, the plumbing is still functional, along with the emergency lights in the stairways and halls, but nothing else. Now that I've seen Amanda Prior's video, I have a better idea why that is, and it seems incredible to me that we all accepted this as normal before yesterday. We should have realized that this isn't how an area looks after being destroyed in war; it's how it looks after people deliberately move away over a period of time.

I walk, my footsteps sounding too loud to my ears, startling me when I brush against a wall or doorway. There doesn't seem to be anyone else here, but if someone is asleep in one of the many empty spaces, it would be hard to know that.

I should return to the apartment we picked, but I just can't. There's a nervous energy twitching through me that makes it too hard to stay still. It's not that I'm seeking out danger, I realize. No, I wasn't lying to Tobias last night; I really do want to live. But I also desperately want to walk, want to move freely without Peter escorting me, without the pain and fear that have accompanied me for weeks now. I also want to be alone for a bit, so I can think without interruption.

Most of my thoughts are of Caleb. I try not to let them in, but I can't help it. Tobias' words keep coming back to me, twisting my stomach into knots. _"He told me that he helped Peter fake your execution."_ I need to know if it's true.

But does it really matter? Even if it's true, he still betrayed me. He told Jeanine that I had three aptitudes, which made her more anxious than ever to "study" me. He probably also helped her figure out the best way to lure me to Erudite, and that makes him responsible for Marlene's death. Her smile flashes through my mind, and I press my palms to my cheeks as if to push it away. How can I possibly forgive him for that?

I think of his face the last time I saw him, as he pleaded with me to listen, to hide the video. He was as willing as Jeanine to kill people to hide the truth. The truth that our parents died to reveal. They would say I should forgive him anyway, should forgive him all the more because he doesn't deserve it, but I guess I still don't have enough Abnegation in me, because I can't do it. I can't, or I won't, or maybe both.

But as angry as I am, I don't know if I want him to die. He's still my brother, the only family I have left, and I don't know if I can abandon him to his death, even after he did that to me. Maybe they won't execute him. Maybe they'll keep him in prison. I'm quite sure I could accept that, but I know it's not what they'll do. So, I keep thinking the same thoughts, around and around in a circle.

As my feet wander down another hallway, I realize I'm not going to resolve this without more information. Maybe when Tobias returns, he'll have some answers, or some way to go forward from here.

Slowly, I make my way back to our cold, unlit apartment. Tobias chose it because it's a corner unit, so there are windows along two walls we can use to watch for anyone who might come after us. It was thoughtful in that somewhat paranoid way Tobias has mastered. But I can't blame him for thinking like that after everything he's been through. Everything we've all been through, really.

I replay our conversations from yesterday in my mind. I haven't told the others that he betrayed Dauntless to keep me alive. They didn't stay awake long enough to ask, but even if they had, this seems like a subject to avoid.

I slip through the door of the apartment. It's not as big as the unit Christina's family has, but it's large enough for our purposes, with two exterior rooms and two windowless ones, if you count the kitchen. Tobias was firm that we can only use flashlights in the interior rooms, and then only when all the doors are closed and covered with blankets to provide an extra level of security. Light carries a considerable distance at night, after all, and we can't let anyone see where we are.

The others are still sleeping soundly, and I'm beginning to feel tired enough to do the same, so I pull some blankets into one of the empty rooms and make a bed of sorts. I could join the others, but I still feel a desire to be alone. Besides, when Tobias comes back, I'd prefer to have a private space. It felt good kissing him like that last night, really good.

I wish he was here now, but I know that things could be much worse. I could be in a prison cell again, with Tobias hating me this time. Or he could have died in the battle. The thought sends a shudder through me, and I wonder for a moment how I ever let him leave my sight today. Suddenly, I'm overwhelmed with the desire to feel his hands on my face, or linked with mine, or elsewhere on my body, and I remember the realization yesterday that he only really touches me.

That's been true from the beginning, I realize slowly. From the moment he pulled me out of the net, and kept me from falling, and welcomed me to Dauntless with his palm on my back. From the moment he placed his hand on my stomach while teaching me to fight, the moment he climbed the Ferris wheel with me and held my hand between his and held my arm to steady me. _He liked me from the beginning._ I have no idea why, given all the other choices he had, but it's clear that he did.

And I've liked him the whole time, too. I didn't admit it to myself for quite a while, but it was there the first time I looked into his eyes, those thoughtful eyes with their unusual shade of blue. They were one of the first things I noticed at Dauntless.

I hold the image of those eyes in my mind as I finally drift off to sleep again, hoping Tobias will be back soon.

_**Please take a moment to write a review. They really motivate me to continue... Thanks!**_


	4. Chapter 4: Tobias - Confrontation

**Chapter 4: Tobias – Confrontation**

Peter is sitting on his bed, with more emotion on his face than I've ever seen. He must have lost someone in the attack. I try to find some sympathy inside me for this boy who saved Tris' life, but all I can see is him holding her by the throat, dangling her over the chasm, and then opening his hands and letting her fall. I take a deep breath to clear the image.

"What?" he asks, looking up at me with his usual false innocence, and I grit my teeth even more. If he had any idea how much that expression reminds me of my father, he wouldn't dare wear it. Or maybe he would, just to irritate me. He is Peter, after all.

"I have a question for you," I say firmly, "and I suggest you answer it honestly. It'll be much easier for you that way."

He narrows his eyes and surveys me with a calculating look.

"The way I hear it," he comments, "you're a traitor. Seems like I'd be better off not helping you with anything."

"In that case, you should definitely answer my question, because the answer will probably cause me trouble."

He hesitates a moment, but I must have piqued his curiosity, because then he says, "Fine. What's the question?"

"Who helped you with Tris' heart monitor?"

Peter smiles, the greedy look of someone who knows his information is valuable.

"Hmm, well, as you know, I only help people if I owe them something or if they have something I want, and you and I are even. So, what are you going to give me?"

"How about the continued use of all your limbs?" I ask coldly, but he looks unfazed.

"Sure, go ahead and attack me in a room full of people you betrayed. Let's see how that goes."

For a few seconds, I glare at him, but I know he's right. This isn't the time or place to draw attention to myself.

"Fine," I snap. "What do you want?"

He thinks about this for an infuriatingly long time before saying, "Nothing you have to offer. So, I think I'll just hold onto that information for now and see if you come up with anything." He smiles, and my hands ball into fists automatically.

"In case you haven't noticed," I hiss, "my mother is in charge of the whole city right now. I can help you and your family." But his face twitches at the statement, and I realize I've said the wrong thing. With a sick feeling, I remember that he transferred from Candor. His family must have been activated by Jeanine, along with all the others, and we shot our way through them to get into this building. That's who he lost.

I draw back, evaluating Peter, trying to think of another approach. But his way of thinking is just too foreign to me, and nothing comes to mind.

"Have it your way," I snarl, turning toward the door. I'm going to have to try talking to Caleb again; perhaps I'll be able to read him better this time, now that I'm not so distracted by Tris' words.

But I must be more distracted than I realize, because I don't notice how the others in the room have shifted around me until I'm surrounded. They don't move to attack, but they form a menacing wall that blocks my exit. This isn't good.

And then Tori makes her way through them, limping heavily but looking even fiercer for it. She walks up to me, too close, and shoves me hard in the chest. I make no attempt to defend myself. Her blow is not undeserved, after all, and it's probably better if she gets it out of her system.

"I always knew you weren't a coward," she growls, "but I can't believe you're showing your face here after what you did. Or do you want to deny that you betrayed us all?" Her words stir a mixture of emotion in me, but anger wins out.

"No," I respond. "I'm not going to deny it, but if you want to talk about betrayal, let's make sure the list is complete." I start ticking a count on my fingers.

"Tris stopped the simulation." I look around at all the faces watching me and continue more loudly. "She gave you your _minds_ back, your freedom, your _souls_. And then she turned herself in to Jeanine in order to save your _lives_. And how did you respond? _By leaving her to die._" My voice is furious now.

"But let's face it – you're all quite comfortable letting other people die for your standard of living." I hold up a second finger. "Two initiates died this year, for no reason other than your pride. Just so you could make sure you only admit the 'right people.' Those kinds of deaths happen pretty much every year, and you don't care."

A third finger joins the others. "And let's talk about those who live. Shauna was injured fighting for you, but you were all perfectly happy to kick her out just because she needs a wheelchair now."

The fourth finger lifts on its own. "In fact, you're comfortable kicking a lot of people out, aren't you? You made ten teenagers factionless this year, and I don't even know how many older people. Take a look at the factionless who just served as your allies. Three quarters of them came from Dauntless. They were just like you once, but you discarded them like so much trash."

I look at Tori again, meeting her hard gaze unflinchingly. "All this time, you've been so focused on what happened to your brother. Did you ever stop to think that if he'd lived, he would have faced the same choice as everyone else in Dauntless? To die or to go factionless." I wave my hands to indicate the whole room and shout, "Because that's what this faction does to _everyone_ eventually. Don't you think it's time to change that?"

There's doubt now in Tori's expression. She's too mad to admit it, but I can tell I've struck a nerve.

"You're not exactly an innocent victim in all this," I add directly to her. "So I'd suggest that for once you think about what's right for _everyone_ in this city. We need to find a path forward, not return to a broken system."

But Tori's not ready to give in yet. Instead, she shouts back at me, "Yes, and your mother is _so_ open to suggestions. You've put all the power into one person's hands, and she won't listen to anyone else. She's as bad as Jeanine, just with different goals!"

Her voice quiets slightly as she adds, "Why didn't you talk to me about your concerns? We could have changed the faction rules, or at least tried to work something out. You were one of our leaders, for God's sake. But now it's too late. You've taken all our choices away. And that certainly isn't what's best for _everyone_ in the city!"

For a long moment, we stare at each other as a sick feeling spreads through my insides. She's right. I helped my mother take away all these people's choices, just like Jeanine did. We've killed people and destroyed factions, and now we're forcing everyone to live the way we decided was right, without giving them any voice in it at all. We're exactly like Jeanine. I have to fix this, but I don't know how.

My silence condemns me in the eyes of the watching Dauntless, and the Dauntless have never been gentle. I feel hands grab me from behind, pinning my arms as others approach me from the front. There are far too many of them to fight off, and I'm not even sure I should try. Part of me knows I deserve this.

The first blow is the hardest. It always was when my father would hit me, and I bear it in silence as I did with him. Additional strikes fall on my back, my stomach, my shoulders. Instinctively, I duck my head, but of course that won't protect my face for long. I try to stay on my feet, knowing that kicks are much worse than punches, and I'll be an open target on the floor.

The room is filled with shouts of anger, and I can't track the motion of so many people around me, coming at me with such hatred. I remember my words to Tris, saying I wasn't going into danger today, and abruptly I realize that I can't just let these people beat me until I'm dead or useless. My mother will never forgive Tris if I'm not there to intervene, and she'll be tried as a traitor. That thought gives me the strength to do what I need.

I twist away from the arms that are still holding me, throwing my entire body weight against them at once, and the fingers fall away. I drive my shoulder into the nearest attacker, shoving him backwards against the people behind him. The movement creates a domino effect of people stumbling against each other and knocking themselves to the floor.

The door is about ten feet away, and I begin plotting a path toward it though the people grasping at me. Kicking, punching, lunging, using my elbows and knees and feet and fists and open hands, I become a human weapon with just one goal – to get out of this room. Eight feet. Seven.

As I reach six, the room explodes with the sound of a gunshot, and everyone freezes. For a moment, I'm sure I must have been shot, that one of the Dauntless must still have a weapon and has used it against me. But then I see Therese standing in the doorway, holding a gun in front of her. I don't know who or what she shot.

"Enough!" she shouts. "Break it up or I start shooting randomly!"

For maybe 30 seconds, everyone stares at her, and I know they're debating going after her too, but then Tori's voice rings out. "Let him go! He's not worth this. Just let the coward leave!" And the Dauntless fall back, clearing a path for me to exit the room. The walk seems to take an eternity, with shame chasing me every step of the way. Therese nods at me as I walk past her, but I can't get myself to respond. I have never felt less comfortable in my own skin.

My eyes flit past her, and I see shattered glass all over the floor in the empty room across the hallway. Therese must have shot out the window in order to get everyone's attention. At least that means no one else died for my actions, but I can't help but notice that the room is right next to Zeke's. It could have been his room. I could have gotten him or Shauna killed today.

I limp blindly ahead, losing myself in the maze of hallways that is Erudite. By the time I find an empty lab in a quiet area, I'm beginning to feel the pain. Good. It brings home the reality of what I've done.

Closing the door behind me, I collapse into a chair and sit with my head in my hands. My entire body is shaking – I don't know how much is from the left-over adrenaline and how much is from anger. I'm furious with my mother, with Tori, with myself, with Jeanine, with everyone who led us down so many wrong paths until we ended up where we are right now. We're supposed to be the solution to humanity's problems, but we're nothing more than wild animals. Come to think of it, we're a lot worse than that.

Eventually, I rise again, walking over to one of the lab sinks to clean my injuries. But I'm mostly just bruised. I ache all over, but without the sharpness of a broken bone, and the only blood is on my knuckles, from where they split as I hit the others. It almost seems like a lesson out of Abnegation – the more selfish we are, the more we hurt ourselves.

By the time I leave the lab, I've buried the anger and guilt deep inside me. I came here for specific reasons, and those reasons still apply despite everything else, so I force myself to focus only on them.

Caleb is next. I wanted to be clear-headed when I talked to him, and I'm far from that, but this is probably my only chance. Once I say what I need to Evelyn, I doubt she'll let me near him.

I consider returning to the lobby and asking the guard to help me find his cell, but when I think about it, I know where he'll be. My mother will have him in the same cell where Tris was held. It's the only fitting place.

My feet find the way easily. They've traveled it often enough in my nightmares. At the end of the hallway, I find two factionless guards, both armed, but neither looking particularly alert. Apparently, they're not very concerned about escapes. It's probably good that I don't know either of them. That means they aren't likely to know that I helped some other traitors leave.

"Hi," I say calmly. "I'm Tobias Eaton." I pause long enough to be sure they recognize the name and that it doesn't trigger any alarms for them. "I need to speak with Caleb Prior. He's down that hallway, right?" and I point in the direction of Tris' former cell.

They exchange a brief look, but apparently my name combined with my knowledge of who's being held where is enough to satisfy them, because one of them stands and says, "Yes, he is. I'll let you in."

As I follow him down the hallway, I focus on my breathing, refusing to allow my surroundings to intrude on my thoughts. This building and its occupants have done enough to me for one day. For a lifetime, really.

The guard pauses outside the door, trying to remember the code, and finally consults a piece of paper in his pocket. "Should I come in with you?" he asks as he swings the door open.

"That won't be necessary," I answer in the same calm tone as before. "I'll just shout when I'm ready to leave."

He shrugs and says, "Okay, but shout loudly. These cell walls are pretty soundproof, and we have the cameras turned off." It's nice to know we'll be talking privately.

I nod. "Tell you what – if you don't hear from me within half an hour, come get me, okay?"

He laughs appreciatively as he walks away, calling over his shoulder, "We'll find you eventually." With those words echoing in my ears, I walk into hell.

I've never been inside this particular room, but I obsessed over it for so long I feel as if I spent a lifetime in it, locked within my worst fear. My heart is already racing, and it certainly doesn't help that the cell is small, barely six feet square. I couldn't even lie down along any of the walls. There are cameras in every corner, too, and even though I know they're turned off, they still add to the fear and paranoia. The sense that Jeanine is still out there, watching, planning our executions…

Caleb is sitting on the bed – the only piece of furniture in the room. For a moment, I picture Tris lying on that same mattress, trying to sleep during the last hours before she expected to die, and it's all I can do not to leap at Caleb and wrap my hands around his throat. But that's how Tori feels about me, I remind myself grimly. I'm not really in a position to judge Caleb too harshly.

"What are you doing here?" Caleb asks, his voice shaking wildly. I'm tempted to make something up, to say I'm here to let him know that his execution has been scheduled for tomorrow morning, so he can spend the next hours experiencing the same terror that Tris must have felt. But I don't have time to waste.

"I'm here to finish our conversation from yesterday. We probably don't have much time, so let me make a few things clear. First, I despise you. If you give me any reason to hurt you, I absolutely will. In fact, I would find it _very_ easy to kill you." I look at him intently, making sure he understands, and he nods nervously.

"Second, do _not_ lie to me. I have other sources of information, and if you tell me _anything_ that I know isn't true, we're back to number one." He nods again, swallowing hard this time.

"And third, don't try to justify what you did. There is no justification, and I don't want to hear any whiny, pathetic excuses. Are we clear?"

"Yes," he stammers. His entire body is quaking with fear, and I can't help but compare him to Tris. She must have inherited all the bravery in the family.

"Okay, then. Tell me simply and clearly what you did for Jeanine and why you don't deserve to die."

He swallows and looks away as he begins.

"At first, I loved Erudite. I loved everything about it. I could finally just focus on learning, without having to pretend to be selfless all the time. It was like a dream come true. But then Tris showed up out of nowhere, and she tried to make me feel like everything I was doing was a lie and that I was betraying Abnegation. She didn't understand what it was like here."

He pauses briefly but must remember my third rule, because he continues almost immediately. "She said that Mom wanted me to research the simulation serum because Jeanine was up to something. I wasn't going to do that, because I didn't believe it, and I thought it was just Tris acting like she knew best for everyone. She used to do that a lot." Again, he stops himself and then continues in a more even tone.

"Anyway, I guess the Erudite recorded our conversation and showed it to Jeanine, because the next thing I knew, she called me into her office. She gave me _soda_," he says with a faint smile. "Have you ever had that?" But his smile vanishes at the scowl on my face, and he resumes talking in a glum voice.

"I'd never had a treat before, growing up in Abnegation, and when I drank it, I began to think about all the joys and freedoms that Abnegation denied to us all." He shrugs helplessly. "I began to wonder why they had the power to decide that for the rest of us."

"And she talked to me. She showed me things that initiates don't normally get to see, like what the Abnegation leaders were really doing. She showed me your fear landscape with your father beating you, so I would know that her articles were true. And she showed me the Amanda Ritter video, to make sure I understood what Marcus and the others were trying to do. They wanted us all to leave the city and go fight for a bunch of strangers who have never done anything to help us! It just wasn't right."

He swallows again and continues in a more subdued tone. "She promised that I could get my parents to safety as the attack began and that she would make sure Tris wasn't hurt. If I helped her, they'd all be safe, and we could save the city from what our leaders planned. I thought I was saving lives…"

"But then my mother wouldn't stay with us, and Tris wasn't affected by the simulation, and everything went wrong... I didn't know how to stop any of it. It just kept getting worse and worse, and then my parents were both dead, and I guess I blamed Tris. They died for her, following her plan, when they should have been safe with me. It made me angry, and so I didn't feel as bad as I should have when I gave Jeanine information about her."

He kicks a foot against the floor in silence for a moment. Just as I'm about to push him to continue, he starts again on his own.

"I told Jeanine that Tris had three aptitudes, and I told her what they were. And I helped her understand Tris' personality and what simulations were most likely to affect her. I don't really know now why I told her some of that, or why I helped her do some of those things. It seemed so reasonable at the time, but now I keep thinking about it and I just don't know anymore."

His voice sounds infinitely sad as he continues quietly, "And then Jeanine made sure Tris knew I'd been helping. Tris yelled at me, of course, but mostly she just looked at me with such a look of betrayal, and I felt like maybe everything I'd been doing was wrong. For the first time, I felt really bad about it. I know that sounds awful, but it was like I just didn't think about it before then, and it took her words to make me think again."

As Caleb says that, a shock of recognition goes through me. I remember hearing Tris' voice during the simulation, remember how it led me back to reality, and I can't help but feel like Caleb is describing a simulation. But a moment later, I realize it couldn't be that. Caleb remembers thinking and feeling and _believing in_ what he did. No simulation does that.

He clears his throat and continues in a soft voice. "Peter and I spent a lot of time together while Jeanine was… designing simulations and serums and testing them and things like that." He rushes through the words, clearly not wanting to admit even to himself what Tris' life was like during that time. "And eventually it became clear that we both wanted to do something. So, we worked out a plan. I rigged the heart monitor so it had two settings – one that ran a program with a simulated heartbeat and one that gave flat-line, and I gave Peter a remote control to switch between the two settings. He replaced the wire going to Tris' heart with a dead one, so nothing real could get to the monitor and cause confusion, and he switched the serum with one I helped him dye. It wasn't much, but it got her out of here."

He sighs and adds, "That's everything I did. I don't know if helping Peter at the end was enough or not. Maybe I do deserve to die… But please tell Tris that I helped her at least a little, that I'm not entirely bad." He looks up at me pleadingly.

I don't know what to say. I still can't look at him without picturing Tris on the execution table, and I can't help but hate him for that. But I also believe him. And that means he's not really much worse than Peter, and he probably shouldn't be killed for being a dumb, gullible kid.

"Look," I start to respond, but the door swings open, and I stop mid-word as Edward walks into the room. He's holding a gun, but he's not pointing it at Caleb. Instead, he's aiming it squarely at me.

"_You,_" he says emphatically, "are not supposed to be in here."

"Why not?" I demand levelly, fixing irritation onto my face. It's best if I pretend I'm not doing anything wrong.

"Pretty sure you know why," Edward answers snidely. "So, just come along quietly, hmm? Your mother would like to see you."

"Well, _I'm_ pretty sure she doesn't want you pointing a gun at me," I say. "But I'm perfectly happy to go talk to her now. I was about to do that anyway." I don't bother to look at Caleb again or say anything to him as I leave. As far as I'm concerned, he can stew in that small cell a while longer.

* * *

Edward directs me into a large, well appointed apartment that must have belonged to someone high up in the Erudite hierarchy. I wonder vaguely if it was Jeanine's apartment. Taking it certainly seems like something my mother would do.

"Tobias," Evelyn says tensely as we enter, and she reaches toward me before changing her mind and letting her hand drop. It's always been difficult for me to read her expressions, but I think I see relief in her face, along with plenty of anger. "I wasn't sure you'd come back," she adds.

Her face is tired and worn, as if she didn't sleep much last night. It makes her look more vulnerable, more human. It reminds me that we share a past and that I still care about her, no matter how much I might wish I didn't.

"Of course I came back," I answer almost contritely. "I just needed to take care of a few things first."

Evelyn motions Edward out with a brief word of thanks and closes the door behind him. Then she turns to face me, giving me a long, evaluating look.

"I heard that you got into a fight with the former Dauntless. Therese said you were defending our position."

I nod. "They're angry, Mom, as angry as they were with Jeanine. And I don't entirely blame them. You need to give them a voice in reshaping this city."

A bitter look crosses her face as she spits, "A voice? You mean like the voice they gave to the factionless all these years?! I spent almost a decade starving, freezing, living off the only scraps I could get from them, and all they did was resent me for existing, for taking away a couple of their luxuries."

"I know," I interrupt. "But that doesn't make it right to do the same thing to them. And it certainly doesn't mean they'll accept it if you do." I sigh, dragging a hand down my face. "Or do you want another war?"

"Of course not," she snaps. "But I'm not going to cave in to them just to avoid one. This is our only chance to change things. I _refuse_ to lose that opportunity."

Frustration makes my voice louder. "I'm not saying you should! Of _course_ things need to change, but it's a question of how. If you at least bring the former faction leaders in and let them give some ideas, they'll be more willing to accept whatever you decide."

My mother's face is almost wild with agitation, and I realize this conversation is going nowhere. She's always been stubborn, and right now she's absolutely convinced she's right. There's no way she will accept input from the faction leaders.

An aggravated sigh bursts from me, and I knead the back of my neck for a moment. "Okay," I finally continue more quietly. "How about if you just include me, then? Maybe you could actually listen to me for a change?"

"Well, I'd like to," she hisses, "but remind me where you just were? What you've spent the last day doing? How am I supposed to trust you when your first goal is to rescue the traitors who tried to stop us?"

For a brief moment, I freeze, trying to control my anger. I need to calm down. My mother is at least still talking to me, and there's nothing to be gained by alienating her completely. I take a slow breath, willing my heart rate to ease.

My voice is controlled, almost quiet when I respond. "You can't be surprised that I took Tris out of here. You know how much she means to me, and there's no way I was going to let her go back to a cell in this building."

"No, I'm not surprised," she answers in an almost deadly voice. Her eyes narrow again. "That girl has always had too much influence on you. Sooner or later, I hope you figure that out. But in the meantime, when you ask me to trust you, you're really asking me to trust her. Because you'll do what she wants."

"Think about it," she adds. "You weren't visiting her brother because _you_ care about him, now were you?"

I pinch the bridge of my nose, trying to push back the tiredness that's beginning to overwhelm me. It feels like there are no answers, no way to move forward, and I so desperately want to find a path out of this mess.

Finally, I answer. "I was visiting him because of something he said yesterday. I think he's much less of a traitor than we thought, and I wanted to confirm that before he's executed."

"I'm not Jeanine," my mother snaps. "He'll get a trial, and he can present his side of things then. He won't be executed without a chance."

"And how am I supposed to know that?" I explode. So much for staying calm. "You're acting just like Jeanine in so many other ways, what makes this any different?"

"I am _not_," she snarls so fiercely I feel like the mere words could rip flesh out of me.

"Yes, you are! You're threatening to kill people who don't agree with you. You're refusing to listen to anyone, even your own son. You tried to hide the same video she did, and now that it's been released, you're forbidding everyone to discuss it. You're so hell-bent on controlling everyone and everything you might as well be using simulations. You're _exactly_ the same!"

For a moment, she's so angry she's rendered speechless, and I know I've gone too far. But in a way it felt good to finally speak my mind to her.

"I won't talk about that video," she responds in an icy whisper, and I'm surprised that's what she's focusing on first out of my accusations. "I don't care what your father says. Those people have already done enough harm in this city. I will _not_ let them touch us again."

That was definitely not the response I expected, and for several seconds, I just stare at her. "What do you mean, 'again'?"

But she shakes her head vehemently. "No! You don't get it. They're _dangerous_, Tobias. They _change_ people."

"In what way?" I ask, but somehow I know she won't answer.

She turns away from me, her entire body rigid with fury and, I think, with fear.

"That's why you helped him, isn't it?" she finally asks.

I sigh again, running a hand over my head in agitation. "No. I didn't help him at all. You know I wouldn't. I helped Tris. He just happened to share her goal."

She shakes her head. "I might buy that for the video, but it certainly doesn't explain why you helped him escape."

"What?" I ask incredulously. "I didn't take him out of here."

"Don't lie to me," she hisses. "Three different people saw him leave with you."

I find myself staring at her again, trying to figure out what game she's playing. But I'm not sure it's a game. Her face has the creases and guarded look I remember from years ago, when my father's mood would shift suddenly, and he'd attack for no apparent reason. It's a look of deep betrayal, and I don't think she's faking it.

"I'm not lying," I say more quietly, letting my confusion show. "I swear I didn't take him out of this building. He was upstairs with me while I was working on Jeanine's computer, but he followed me down to the lobby, and that's where I last saw him. If he's gone, I don't know how he did it." But as I finish the words, an uncomfortable thought creeps into my mind. I was so focused on what was ahead of us as we left, I never looked behind me. If he followed us out of the building, I might not have seen him, and the guards might have thought he was part of my group. Could that really have happened? I'm usually so aware of him, the hairs on the back of my neck rising whenever he's close, that it seems impossible, but I was certainly very distracted. I can't be sure.

Her eyes are narrowed as she evaluates me, weighing my words and expression, and I can tell she doesn't believe me.

"I helped you when no one else would," she says quietly, but with a fierce undercurrent of anger. "And _this_ is how you repay me."

"You seem to be forgetting a couple of things, _Mom_," I say with equal anger. "You didn't help me for free. Tris saved my life, but you didn't help her out of gratitude, or because I care about her, or even because she saved so many other lives. You only did it to get me to betray Dauntless. So, even if I had helped Marcus, _which I didn't, _don't try to claim you deserve better."

She glares at me coldly, but I stare directly back, refusing to be intimidated.

"You won't be able to keep her safe," she finally says, her teeth gritted.

Fury sweeps through me, sending tendrils of flame through every part of my body. "Are you threatening her?" I ask incredulously.

She turns away again, but I grab her arm, twisting her back to face me. "Are you seriously threatening Tris? What the hell kind of mother are you?"

She pulls back, yanking her arm from my grasp. "Don't you dare put your hands on me! Don't you _dare!_" For a moment, her face is from my childhood, filled with fear as my father grabbed her, and I step back, feeling a surge of guilt and confusion. I grabbed her like he did.

"You want to think you're different than him," she says, "but you're not. You're just like he was at your age." Every word drills through me, but she continues, "I wasn't threatening Tris. I was warning you. Marcus will try to get you to leave the city, and knowing your girlfriend, she'll go, and you'll go with her. And they'll change you, just like they did to him. And then you'll hurt her, the way you've always sworn you wouldn't. You'll be just like him!"

Something twists deep inside me, a primal fear knotting my insides like a rope. "What are you talking about?" I demand in a voice that no longer wants to work.

Her expression turns even more bitter, and she takes a few steps away, stopping with her back to me. She's silent for so long that I'm sure she's not going to answer, but eventually she says, "He disappeared for a few days after he became a leader. He would never tell me where he went or what happened, but he was obsessed with Divergence after that. He's the one who pushed the others to retest the factionless, so they could get a count of the Divergent population. He's the one who wanted to show the video to everyone. He's the one who pushed every stage of what led to this war."

She turns around and looks me right in the eyes. "And that's also when he started hitting us." A lead weight drops into my stomach, pulling me toward the floor.

"I don't know what they did when he was gone, but it destroyed him. Don't let them do it to you too. Don't go outside this city." Her voice is intense, her eyes glued to mine, and suddenly there are no thoughts left in my head. There's just the dread from my fear landscape, the thought of turning into my father, and the certainty that I no longer know who to trust.

* * *

I'm not sure how long I wander the hallways after I leave my mother's apartment. Thought eventually begins to filter back into my brain, but it's slow, as if I'm swimming through a thick mud.

She must be lying. She made this up to keep me from leaving the city, to get me to agree with her, to silence me. It's as simple as that. Yet part of me is sure she was telling the truth, or at least that she believes what she said. Did something or someone really change him, break something deep inside him, flip some internal switch that turned him into a monster?

And do I have the same flaw inside me, waiting?

No. It doesn't make sense. I've always known he was responsible for his own actions. It's impossible to believe otherwise after seeing the pleasure in his eyes so many times as he released his violence. That has to be all him. It has to be.

And I'm not like him. I'm not. I would _never_ hit Tris.

But I know there's violence inside me. I can't deny that. There's a reason I was so afraid of shooting a woman that it stayed in my fear landscape for two years. There's a reason my landscape still shows me Marcus' face in the mirror. I've hurt people, and I've taken pleasure in it.

During my initiation, I was more than a good fighter; I reveled in it. Yes, it was part of initiation, and we were forced to do it, but it was also the first time I ever got to hit someone back, and I loved the rush of power I felt. I've never started a fight since then, but when they've been pushed on me, I haven't exactly held back. I thoroughly enjoyed knocking out Eric's tooth and wiping that smug look off his face, even if I did it to keep him from hurting Shauna.

And then there's everything I've done to defend Tris… Drew never fully recovered from what I did to him, at least not mentally. But all I could think was that I wanted to hurt him more, wanted to do the same thing to Peter and Al. I executed Eric without a backward glance, without a twinge of guilt, because of how many times he threatened Tris, because I knew if he lived that he'd kill her someday. I don't even know how many people I killed helping Tris escape from Erudite – from this building. They were just obstacles to her safety. I probably killed even more breaking back in here yesterday. I didn't enjoy that, but I didn't flinch from it either, and I don't really regret it.

I could easily have the same fault inside me that my father does, and if what my mother said is true, I'm walking straight into danger if I leave this city. Worse than that, I'm leading Tris into that danger. I can't let that happen. But I also know I can't let her go without me, not into all the unknown risks out there. And if anything on that video is true, they need her.

I don't know what to do.

But even if I don't have a plan, it's time to do something different. My feet have pounded enough miles in this building today. It's time to go back to Tris. My stomach twists at the thought of explaining all this to her, but I'm determined not to break my promise, and I'm not willing to just stay away, so I'll have to figure it out. Maybe the cool outside air will give me some ideas…

I make my way back to the lobby, wondering vaguely if any of the guards will try to stop me. My mother and I didn't really finish our conversation, and I don't clearly remember how it ended. I was too absorbed by what she said. Hopefully, she hasn't issued any orders to hold me.

As soon as I enter the lobby, Zeke emerges from another stairway. It's too quick, and I instinctively know that he was waiting in the stairway, watching for me. He must have been trying to stay out of sight of the guards.

He raises a hand in greeting, looking as if he hasn't seen me all day, as he crosses the room quickly to join me. His hand stretches out to shake mine, and I grab it immediately. He knows I don't like to shake hands, so if he's greeting me this way, there's a reason for it. Sure enough, I feel the paper between his fingers as he presses it against my palm. I take it quietly, making a partial fist to shield it from view.

"You sure know how to rile people up, don't you?" Zeke asks me with a half smile. It's a serious expression for him.

I shrug, muttering, "It's a talent."

"Well, be careful exercising it, huh?" There's genuine concern in his voice, and I feel a brief surge of gratitude toward him for sticking with me despite everything. I nod, trying to think of a suitable response, but he just claps me on the shoulder and heads to one of the other stairways, as if he was only passing through the lobby as a shortcut.

I surreptitiously slip the paper into my pocket, my fingers brushing briefly against the package Zeke handed me this morning. It feels like that was years ago, and it suddenly seems wrong to have something like that in my pocket after everything that's happened since. But I leave it there. It's been a rotten day, but that doesn't mean my feelings for Tris have changed, and sooner or later, I'm going to want the contents of that package. I can only hope she does too once she hears what my mother said.

To my relief, the guards don't stop me as I leave the building. I'll be followed, of course, but I can handle that. I wanted some extra walking time anyway…

_**Phew. That was a long chapter! Please take a moment to write a review. They give me incentive to continue... Thanks!**_


	5. Chapter 5: Tris - Planning

_Author's Note: Thank you for the kind reviews! I appreciate them very much._

**Chapter 5: Tris – Planning**

I wake up to the sound of Uriah laughing.

"No, there's no dash after it. You just spelled 'mina.'"

"What's a mina?" Christina asks.

Cara answers, "It's a type of bird" at the same time Uriah says, "It's less than maja."

I join them in time to see Christina smack Uriah on the arm. "Hey, some of us haven't had 10 years to practice this! I think I'm doing pretty well."

Cara purses her lips and says, "Objectively speaking, I'm not sure I'd agree with that. The vowels are pretty basic, you know."

Christina's eyes land on me, and she says, "Oh, I'm sorry. Did we wake you? I mean it's only 1:00."

"I had trouble falling back asleep this morning," I mutter. "What are you doing, anyway?"

"Well," Christina says, "it turns out that Zeke and Uriah have been using this thing called Morris code to communicate _secretly_ for years."

"Morse code," Uriah corrects her, rolling his eyes. "And it was useful. We could pass messages without Mom catching us." Looking at me, he adds, "I thought it might be good for us," and he gestures around the room, "to have another way of communicating. You know, in case someone comes into the building or something like that."

"Good idea," I say, and it is. We have no idea what we're facing, and having a backup means of communication can only help. With a pang, I remember Lynn and Shauna making faces to each other as we spied on Jack Kang. That was their secret code, and it worked, but it led to Shauna being paralyzed.

"See, I told you I'm smart," Uriah says to Christina. Then, he looks at me again and adds, "We ate a bunch of the food, but we saved you half a can of stew." He nods toward the kitchen counter, and I see the can sitting there with a spoon stuck into it.

"Mmm, appetizing," I comment. It tastes like tin and congealed fat, but I eat it anyway. We need to keep our strength up, and I won't do that by starving.

We spend the next few hours learning Morse code, and I begin to understand Christina's frustration. I may have an aptitude for Erudite, but that doesn't mean everything comes naturally, and I find it very difficult to figure out when Uriah is pausing between letters.

"Sorry," he mutters after what seems like the 100th time we mistake "a" for "et." "I guess Zeke and I got really used to each other's timing. Siblings are good at that, you know." The moment the words leave his mouth, a stricken expression crosses his face, and he glances between me and Cara like he's sure he offended one or both of us.

"Oh, relax," Cara says with mild irritation. "My brother's dead and hers is a traitor. Life goes on. We can stand it if you mention _your_ brother."

I laugh. I'm not entirely sure why, but something about Cara's calm in-your-face answer appeals to me. A moment later, though, it sinks in just how many people we've all lost. Al. Will. My parents. Marlene. Lynn. And Caleb in a way.

"Yeah," I say quietly. "We have to find a way to keep going, don't we?"

Suddenly, I'm wondering when Tobias will be back, and I'm keenly aware that he didn't take a weapon with him. Alone among the Dauntless, he walked away from yesterday with two guns – his own and the one I handed to him when I surrendered. He left them here for us, and I know it was sensible. If he brought one to Erudite, it would just be confiscated, and then we'd have one less option. Still, I don't like the thought of Tobias being unarmed in _that_ place.

"Time to practice walking!" Christina says emphatically, changing the subject, and I seize the opportunity to help her to her feet.

We pace up and down the hallway together, slowly at first but faster as Christina masters the crutch. Eventually, she starts carrying a gun in her free hand, pausing to aim periodically. I should do that too, I know, but whenever she hands it to me so she can adjust her crutch, it's all I can do to avoid dropping it. I was hoping it would be easier now, after firing at myself in yesterday's simulation, but it's not. I wonder if I'll ever stop picturing Will's face when my fingers touch that metal.

As the day drags on, it gets harder and harder not to worry about Tobias. The others try to distract me, but I keep obsessing over images of him being walked between guards down the long hallways of Erudite, limping from whatever torture he just endured. _How could I have let him go there alone?_

By 8:00, I'm a nervous wreck and am seriously considering rescue options. My feet retrace the same path over and over, and I can't seem to avoid growling at anyone who dares to keep me company. I wonder if this is how Tobias felt when I went to Erudite. _No_, I realize grimly. _That was much worse._ At least now I can hope that Tobias will come back safely any moment. He didn't have any hope.

When he finally emerges from the stairway, I run to him, wrapping my arms around him in relief. I think I feel a wince go through his body at the contact, but a second later, I'm sure I must have imagined it, because he wraps his arms around me as tightly as ever and kisses me deeply.

"What took you so long?" I ask when he releases me. I can't keep the worry out of my voice.

"Things didn't go well," he answers in a low voice. "I don't think I can go back there again." I pull away a little, searching his face in the dim light, but he adds, "I'll have to tell you about it later. Right now, we need to talk to the others."

* * *

We sit huddled around the flashlight, looking at a small piece of paper that Zeke gave to Tobias.

Zip-lining

Midnight

Bring friends & goodies

It obviously isn't really zip-lining. I can't imagine anyone being in the mood for that right now. Besides, Zeke must know that Tobias avoids heights.

"I assume it's a meeting at the Hancock building," I say, "but what are the goodies?"

"Guns," Tobias and Uriah answer simultaneously.

"Even I got that," Christina adds, and I laugh.

Uriah, on the other hand, looks serious for a change. He says quietly, "But we only have two guns for five of us. That's not enough."

"No, it isn't," Tobias answers calmly. "Fortunately, I know where to get more if we need them." He looks at the small group of us, his eyes pausing on Christina's leg and Cara's face before he adds, "But first we should decide who's going."

"We all go!" Christina exclaims. "I've gotten much better on the crutch, and there's no way I'm staying behind. Besides, as long as the factionless aren't there, I shouldn't be in any danger. The Dauntless don't hate me." She gives Tobias a pointed look.

"Can you use a gun right now?" Tobias asks, ignoring the accusation in Christina's eyes.

"I don't aim with my feet," she answers sarcastically. But of course she knows how much Tobias always talks about the importance of stance, so she adds, "and yes, I've been practicing all afternoon like a good little Dauntless." Tobias apparently accepts that, because his eyes move on to Cara.

"I'm going too," she says immediately. "I want to hear what people have to say, and like Christina, I'm probably not in any real danger. And while I'm not a fan of guns, I do know how to use one." My surprise must show on my face, because she smiles slightly and adds, "Christina showed me how the first time I helped you all, in Candor." For me, the words are an uncomfortable reminder. The two of them became close while mourning Will, and perhaps because they both hated me for shooting him.

Tobias looks at Uriah next, though I'm not sure why. There's certainly nothing stopping him from going.

"Why are you even asking?" Uriah says. "Of course I'm going."

Tobias' eyebrows pucker, and he responds, "What I'm really asking is why you're here at all. You weren't facing trial or even in trouble. You could be safely at Erudite with Zeke."

Uriah looks away, his expression pained, or perhaps embarrassed. After a moment, he says, "You guys are the only friends I have left." Then he looks back at Tobias and adds, "And you hid my Divergence. You know, during initiation. You kind of saved my life."

"You don't owe me anything for that," Tobias says sternly. "My initiation instructor, Amar, did the same thing for me. I was just passing the favor on."

"Yeah, and he's dead now, isn't he?" Uriah asks quietly. "So I know you were taking a chance. Besides, it's my life, so it seems like a big deal to me." He gives a small smile, but he continues to look at Tobias almost challengingly, and Tobias finally nods.

His eyes turn to me next, but I'm busy thinking about what Uriah just said. Somehow, it never really occurred to me how much danger Tobias and Tori put themselves in to hide my Divergence. And I stabbed Tori yesterday…

Tobias clears his throat to get my attention and asks, "If you carry a gun, will you be able to use it?"

"I don't know," I admit, biting my lip nervously. It feels so weak to say that, and I hate admitting to weakness, particularly in front of Tobias. I should be stronger than this. I _need_ to be stronger than this.

Tobias stares at me, and I'm sure he must be annoyed, even though his eyes just look thoughtful. I'd be annoyed if I were him.

Finally, he stands up and says, "I suggest we break into two groups for now. Christina, it will take you longer to walk, so you and Cara should head straight there. Uriah, if you wouldn't mind taking one of the guns and going with them, you can be their point person. Tris and I can retrieve the other weapons and meet you there." His eyes rest on mine for a moment, making sure I don't object to going with him, and then he continues. "There's an old park at Chestnut and Wabash – we'll meet there before anyone heads into the Hancock building."

* * *

We don't talk as we walk down the dark, quiet streets. The air is too silent, and any noise feels like a pointless risk. Tobias keeps a hand lightly on me, as he did during the long walk from Erudite to Abnegation, as if he's afraid I might disappear into the night without it. His other hand holds the gun ready at all times. I can't help but wonder what happened at Erudite today that has him so jumpy.

We walk for what feels like hours, though I suspect it's really less than two miles. The tension just makes it seem longer. Eventually, Tobias leads me into an abandoned building whose windows have been shattered. Broken glass litters the lobby, mingled with years' worth of dirt and debris. It doesn't look like anyone has been here in decades.

Tobias leads me carefully through the room, and I realize he's sticking to a path that hides our footsteps. He's clearly been here before.

At the back of the room, hidden from the street, is a door to a staircase, and we climb to the third floor. Here, the building is in better shape, though there are no lights of any kind other than the moon filtering through the windows at each end of the hallway. Tobias fiddles with the knob on one of the doors, smiling slightly as he whispers, "I modified it so it would seem locked."

After a moment, the knob turns, and Tobias leads me into a completely dark space.

"Hang on a second," he mutters as he shuts the door behind us, sealing out any residual light from the hallway. I hear him moving in the darkness, and then a light comes on, and I stare around in wonder.

We're standing in old apartment with a grand, arched ceiling. It once had large windows, but they've since been boarded up, and there's a layer of blankets covering them to ensure no light seeps through. There's a folding chair next to a kerosene stove, with a mattress stretching out on the other side. Piles of supplies fill the rest of the room – blankets, canned goods, multiple flashlights and portable lamps, and a stack of weapons.

"What is this place?" I ask quietly.

"It's where I was going to live," Tobias answers, his eyes on mine, "when I was planning to leave Dauntless and go factionless. Before I met you." He gives a little smile and adds, "I wasn't fond of my mother then, so I had no intention of joining the other factionless, and after I learned about the attack the Erudite were planning, I knew I needed weapons and a place to hide them. So, I found somewhere no one else was using, and I brought stuff here, a little at a time."

"This is incredible," I say, wondering how on earth he got the mattress here. "Why didn't we come here last night?"

Tobias looks uncomfortable. "It was kind of far for Christina to walk," he says after a moment. Then, I think he must remember that we're being honest with each other, because he adds, "And I'm not sure how much to trust her right now. I think she cares more about Dauntless than the others, and she may not be happy with ending the factions."

I have to think about that for a moment before deciding he's right. Cara's faction destroyed itself when it started the war, and somehow I get the feeling that Uriah only chose Dauntless because his family was there. He would probably have been just as happy in Amity, or living factionless. Neither of them will care too much that Tobias betrayed the Dauntless, but Christina might.

"I see your point." Then, I smile and add, "I guess this can be our private space."

Tobias grins and steps close to me. He slides a hand through my hair and wraps it around the back of my head, leaning down to bring his lips to mine. He kisses me slowly, and the heat rises through me at the same pace. I could stay like this all night, but he pulls back and says softly, "It's too bad we have to go."

Clearing my throat hastily, I say, "Yeah, I guess we do. So, we need two more guns, right?"

"Three," Tobias says firmly. "But first, we need to figure out a way for you to use one. And I think I have an idea for that…"

He takes the gun he was carrying and carefully unloads it while I watch. When he finishes, he holds it up in front of me so I have to look at it.

"One of these probably saved my life today," he says, and I start, looking up at him in concern.

"What?!"

He makes a little movement with his hand, as if to brush away the worry. "I'm fine. I wasn't paying enough attention, and I ended up in a room with 20 Dauntless… who don't like me very much right now."

I reach toward him instinctively, placing my hand over his heart, as I stare at him wide-eyed. I knew he winced when I touched him earlier. And suddenly, I'm furious with my faction.

_"What did they do to you?"_

But he continues without answering my question. "My point is that there's more than one way to use a gun. Therese got me out of there by shooting a window. It got everyone's attention, and it scared them into backing off. Without shooting anyone. And it made me think that maybe you could use this again if you can learn how to aim differently."

He turns me gently so my back is pressed against his chest and I'm facing across the room toward one of the old windows. "Hold this in front of you," he commands, and I take the gun in my clammy hands. My fingers instantly object, but he wraps his own hands around mine, clamping them in place, and together we hold the gun in front of us. I can feel his body pressed against me, his chin resting on the top of my head, and his strength holds me in place.

"Picture yourself standing in a doorway in Erudite," he says softly. "The room is filled with makeshift beds, and Dauntless are leaping across them to attack me." My heart starts pounding, and I feel sweat breaking out on my palms and my face.

"I know you don't want to shoot them," Tobias continues in the same calm, almost gentle voice. "But you want to stop them. You could shoot a window to do that, couldn't you?"

I nod, swallowing hard.

"Good. Then picture that and squeeze the trigger."

I close my eyes and see Will's face floating in front of me. My breathing is getting more rapid, and my heart is racing. I can't do this I can't I can't I can't.

Behind me, Tobias says calmly, "Breathe with me. I'm always drawing strength from you. This time, you draw it from me."

The comment surprises me enough to erase the image of Will. "You draw strength from me?"

He laughs. "Constantly. You just don't notice because you have so much to spread around."

A warm, soft feeling goes through me at the words, a feeling that's totally out of place with the gun in my hands. Suddenly, I'm very aware of Tobias' body against my back and his arms pressed along mine. I bet he's never held anyone else like this during target practice. Or maybe ever.

Abruptly, I can picture him in the room of Dauntless, their hands beating into him the way his father's did. Anger surges through me again, and I aim the gun at the imaginary window. I clench my teeth and screw my eyes closed, but I manage to squeeze the trigger.

For a moment, I stand there panting, Tobias still holding me firmly. I breathe with him and feel my heart rate begin to slow down.

"Good," Tobias says. "Now think. Where else could you shoot, besides the window?"

I picture the room again, thinking about his description. "Are all the Dauntless grouped around you?"

"Yes."

"Then, I could shoot into one of the mattresses. That would absorb the bullet enough to keep it from hurting someone, right?" I feel him nod against the top of my head, and I aim at a mattress on the far side of the imaginary room, well away from the people. Again, my finger pulls the trigger. It's easier this time.

"Okay, let's picture a different scenario now. How did Christina get shot yesterday?"

I don't want to think about that, but it's not an unbearable thought, like so many others, so I answer. "We ran into Edward in the stairway. He had a gun and I didn't, and I struggled with him over it. And Christina got shot, and then she shot Edward."

"What could you have done differently if you had a gun?" I have to think about that for a while. Would it have made a difference? After all, Christina had a gun, so it's not like we were unarmed. But Edward had to pull his weapon. If I'd had one aimed at him before then, he probably wouldn't have done that.

The picture is clear in my mind, and I imagine holding the gun out in front of me. But what would I have done if he had pulled his gun anyway? I wouldn't have been willing to kill Edward. He's never been a friend, exactly, but he's not my enemy either. And there's not much else I could have shot in the stairway, with all that metal and cement to make the bullet ricochet, and with all those innocent people below us. Nothing except the dead guard, but a shiver runs up my spine at the idea of shooting his body to distract Edward. I can't bring myself to do that, even in my imagination.

"I don't know," I finally whisper. The words feel like a failure.

"Could you have injured him to protect Christina?" Tobias asks. "If there was nothing else to shoot, and if he forced your hand?"

My palms go clammy again, but I push myself to think anyway. I shot Eric in the foot to keep him from killing Tobias. Surely, I could do something like that for Christina.

My hands shake as I aim the gun at Edward's side, where Christina shot him. No, I think, not the side. If I miss even a little, or if he moves unexpectedly, that could kill him. I shift my aim to the side of his arm, a little below where I was shot. Tobias' hands steady mine, and I breathe with him again as I pull the trigger for the third time tonight.

"Uriah this time," Tobias says. "The Dauntless traitors are attacking Candor, and he's in danger." My heart rate rises immediately at the memory, but I lean into Tobias and breathe with him until it slows again. I picture Uriah's kind face as he took me zip-lining and his protectiveness after Peter attacked me. And I know I need to protect him too. Of course I do.

I was on the ground during that attack, so I aim up at the leg of his imaginary attacker, picking my target carefully – the right spot to cause pain but not death. It's much easier to pull the trigger now. I'm getting used to it. Behind me, I can feel Tobias nod.

"Cara's turn. Put her where Peter was, in the Amity compound. Someone is about to shoot her from behind. Cara is between you and the shooter."

My reaction surprises me. When this really happened, I pushed Peter to safety, but now I step sharply to the side, moving away from Tobias for the first time, and shoot around where Cara would be, grazing the gun arm of the person who was shooting. It takes me a moment to understand why it was so much easier this time, but then I get it. She's Will's sister.

Tobias is watching me, his eyes too dark to read. He doesn't step over to me again. Instead, he says very quietly, "Eric is holding a gun to my head."

My hands lift the gun on their own, pointing directly at Eric's imaginary head. For a moment, I hesitate, knowing this is a kill shot, and images flash through my mind unbidden. But they're not images of Will. Instead, I see Eric planning to kill Tobias in cold blood just because he could, Eric shooting a Candor boy in the head simply because he was Divergent, Eric taunting Tobias as the Dauntless prepared to execute him, and suddenly I understand how Tobias fired that gun. But I can't quite do it. My hand lowers slightly, and I fire at Eric's ear. I know that I would do more than that to save Tobias, if it really came down to it, but I hope it never does.

Tobias steps to my side now, his eyes holding mine. His hand slides softly down my free arm, and he laces his fingers with mine. "Let's go," he says.

_**Please take a moment to write a review of this chapter. You can write one even if you don't have an account on this site, and they really do help me a lot. They help me understand what's working and what isn't, so I know if I need to go in a different direction in the next chapter. They also help motivate me to write... Thanks!**_


	6. Chapter 6: Tobias - Meeting

**Chapter 6: Tobias – Meeting**

We reach the Hancock building about 11:10 and watch from a quiet spot for several minutes. No flashlights or voices break the night air, so we approach the building cautiously, guns ready. The lobby is completely dark, without even a faint glow from the emergency lights or the elevators. The generator must still be off.

"What do we do now?" Tris whispers to me, like I have any idea what I'm doing. But we shouldn't stay here, so I lead them into the back stairwell and partway down toward the basement. Whoever turns the generator on, assuming they do, is likely to use the other staircase, so it's safer to go down than up. And from this spot we should be able to hear people as they arrive.

It's a long wait. The others eventually sit on the stairs, letting their legs rest, but Tris and I stand together a little apart from them. This isn't the time or place to talk, so we wait in silence, leaning against the wall, our sides pressed together. Neither of us has had a chance to bathe in the last two days, but Tris' hair still has a sweet smell that tantalizes me as I lean close to her. It's always hard to focus around her, though at the same time I notice more when she's near. It's when I'm most awake.

I finally begin hearing movements and voices around 11:30. Someone shouts a question I can't quite make out, but I catch the word "generator." Another ten minutes pass, and then the emergency lights flicker on. Many of the bulbs have burned out over the years, despite the sporadic use they get, but a few still burn feebly.

Tris pulls my arm, and I lean down so my ear is right by her mouth. "If they're turning on the generator, that means they're going to the roof, right?" she whispers. "Maybe we should climb a couple of flights and catch the elevator from there."

"Good idea," I whisper back, and we quietly collect the others.

We're the first people on the 100th floor, so we have time to decide if we should stay here or climb the ladder to the roof. Where the meeting is held will depend largely on who's conducting it, and how many Dauntless attend. That triggers a short debate, with Christina and Uriah convinced that we should climb to the roof, and me determined not to. I'm pretty sure Tris only sides with me because she knows how much the height terrifies me, but I appreciate the support anyway. Cara ends up being the deciding vote when she comments that we could easily be trapped on the roof if someone simply removes the ladder.

We move away from the elevators to a more shielded area and wait again. Occasionally, I whisper a scenario to Tris, and she practices aiming. Even if she can't pull the trigger here, it seems to help her think about targets.

After a while, Christina begins leaning on Uriah for support. Her leg is undoubtedly bothering her, but I have to give her credit for holding on this long without complaint.

Finally, people begin arriving. I hear voices I don't recognize, and they conduct the same debate we just did. They finally decide to hold the meeting on this floor. A smile tugs at my mouth, and Tris gives my hand a squeeze of amusement. Behind me, I can almost hear the annoyance in Christina's breathing, but I don't turn around or say anything. We need to stay focused.

The voices launch into another debate, about whether or not to use floodlights, and it's all I can do not to join in. They'd be crazy to draw that kind of attention to a building you can see from miles away, particularly when the moon is already so bright tonight. It casts enough light to manage, and fortunately they eventually come to that conclusion.

As it gets closer to midnight, more and more people arrive, mingling and speaking in loud voices. I recognize some of them, especially Tori. Perhaps I should have taken the time to warn the others about her, though I don't think she's a threat to anyone except me. And she may have gotten the worst of it out of her system today. I can hope so, anyway.

Feet start stomping rhythmically, and I know they're getting ready to begin. That technique always catches the Dauntless' attention. Tori calls for silence, her voice getting louder with each repetition until the crowd finally quiets enough to hear.

"Thank you! I'm glad to see so many of you came. Most of you know that we're here to figure out a new plan. We successfully overcame our own traitors, plus the Erudite, but we're now in a position we didn't expect. Evelyn thinks we'll lie down quietly and let her end our factions, but _I_ don't think you'll do that. _Will you?_"

The crowd roars its disagreement, with shouts of "Dauntless, Dauntless, Dauntless" echoing through the floor. Intermixed, I hear loud cries of "Candor," some voices singing "Amity," and even a few quiet calls of "Abnegation." Someone shouts, "All the factions, even Erudite!" and there's a smattering of applause. I can see why Zeke suggested we bring guns.

Behind me, I can feel Christina and Cara almost straining toward the others, and I know they agree with the general sentiment. Even Tris feels tense, like part of her is drawn there too. Uriah, oddly, seems content where he is.

Tori shouts over the noise, "Then we need a plan!" Another roar greets the words, but the voices quickly grow quiet again. I can feel the anticipation thick in the air even from here.

"And it needs to be a smart one! Because we have no weapons, and our oppressors do." She lets those words sink in for a moment and then continues, "We need ideas! If you have any, step forward. Unlike Evelyn, we'll listen to you."

Tris turns toward me, mixed emotions on her face, and I know she has an idea. Of course she does. But she bites her lip and stays where she is.

Someone calls out, "We can overpower them! If we all act at the same time, every one of us can grab a weapon. Let's just pick a time and do it!"

There's a general shout of agreement, but I shake my head automatically. It's a bad plan.

Apparently, Tori realizes that too, because she answers, "No! Most of the factionless came from Dauntless. They'll notice if we gather next to them, and they know how to use those weapons. Don't underestimate them!" I guess she heard part of what I said earlier.

"What if we bring them back into Dauntless?" someone suggests. "They might turn on Evelyn for the chance to come home again." That suggestion must elicit some thought, because it's greeted by silence, followed by a sudden burst of mutters all around the room.

"This isn't right," a tremulous voice finally calls out. "The factionless are people too." Someone must object because she continues, "Well, you thought they were when they were Dauntless, and then when they were your allies. What's different now?"

"Yeah," someone else shouts. "It's as bad as what you did to Amity!" The accusation draws some hisses, but loud voices shout, "Truth," and I know at least some of the Candor agree.

I'm curious now, so I lean close to Tris' ear and whisper, "What's your idea?"

She smiles and shifts to respond only to me. "Pellet guns." I have to think about that for a moment, and then I grin too. Dauntless is filled with those, scattered in every kid's bedroom and in some of the stores. The factionless wouldn't have gathered them, because they're not real weapons, but they certainly look real – real enough to create a stand-off with the factionless and give Tori some bargaining power. For a moment, I just shake my head in wonder. Tris could certainly have succeeded in Erudite.

The crowd continues with suggestions, but they're all rejected for various reasons. I'm getting tempted to let Tris step forward with her idea, when everyone falls unexpectedly silent. Footsteps move through the crowd, and I lean forward just a little, just enough to see. The sight freezes me in place.

My father walks through the crowd with Johanna Reyes and three people I don't recognize. Except that I do know one of them, somehow. He looks exactly like Amar, right down to his body language as he walks. But Amar is dead. I attended his funeral. Just like I attended my mother's…

"What's the matter?" he asks someone he's passing. "You look like you've seen a ghost." The voice and the words remove all doubt, and suddenly I'm angry. I mourned him. I made decisions about my life based on his murder. And the whole time it was fake. It's what my mother did, and somehow having it happen a second time makes it even worse. How could they do that? What is wrong with them?

And my father is involved. He's always involved in things that hurt me. Even when I came out of the simulation, after almost killing Tris, he was there.

Tris' hands press into my chest, and I realize I've moved toward Amar without meaning to. Tris is looking at me with concern, her eyes wide, trying to figure out what's wrong. I shake my head. Even if I could talk safely here, there are no words to express how I feel right now. All I can do is stare.

I'm standing in plain sight of the crowd, but it doesn't matter. They're too focused on the newcomers to look our way. Murmurs and exclamations of surprise fill the room. And then Tori's strangled voice cuts through them, filled with the same emotions running through me.

"George…"

She knows Amar, but she's not even looking at him. Instead, she steps toward one of the others, a man I don't know, and takes him by the shoulders. People shift around the group, giving me a glimpse of his face. I see the resemblance immediately, and I remember that Tori's brother was named George. Is, it seems.

Tori pulls back and hits George hard across the face, and then she's yelling incoherently, and people are pulling her away, and George is crying and trying to apologize or explain or maybe both, and the whole room turns to chaos.


	7. Chapter 7: Tris - Outsiders

_Author's Note: Thank you for the reviews! I truly appreciate them._

**Chapter 7: Tris – Outsiders**

The voice I hear most clearly is Tori's. It must be the pain in her tone that cuts through the other sounds.

"I killed Jeanine for you!" she shouts at George. "You made me into a murderer!"

Beside me, Tobias stands as rigid as the walls of the building, his eyes moving between his father and the man next to George.

"Who is that?" I ask, pulling on his arm, but he seems to be unaware I'm there. I've never seen Tobias so unresponsive, except when he was under the simulation. The sight sends a chill through me.

"I think it's Amar," Uriah says from behind me. "Our old initiation instructor. He's supposed to be dead, but it looks just like him."

A sinking feeling goes through me, and I lace my fingers into Tobias', trying to bring him back to me. He's had too many betrayals in his life already, and now his old instructor, the one who hid his Divergence to keep him alive, is adding to it. It feels like Amar has ripped something from inside my own chest in the process.

The third newcomer, a gray-haired woman who is not much taller than I am, stomps her feet loudly in a short pattern. The others near her stomp it back to her. She stomps it again, and a larger group responds. After the third time, the whole room stomps it in unison. She holds her arms up over her head and speaks in a voice that projects through the entire floor. "Eyes on me!" Every face in the room turns to her, even Tori's and Tobias'.

"Obviously, many of you recognize us," she says. "For those who don't, we used to live among you. We lived in the same factions you did. We shared your concerns and your lives. But we were recruited by the group Amanda Ritter told you about. We're here today because we need your help, and because _you_ need _ours_!"

A burst of excitement goes through me. This is our chance to learn more about those outside the city. This is what my parents wanted. But it's also why Jeanine started a war, and I know many here will resist the message these people are bringing.

I shift from side to side, trying to get a closer look at the woman who's talking. Her voice is smooth and practiced, the voice of a leader, and I feel an instant desire to trust her. But I don't trust people easily, so in an odd way the impulse makes me warier.

"This city is in tremendous danger," she continues, her tone conveying a deep sense of urgency. "There is an entire country outside of here that is poised to attack. We have protected you from them for years, but we can no longer do that by ourselves. We need some of you to help us, and you all need to get ready to defend yourselves!"

"Why should we believe you?" someone yells, and a murmur of agreement goes through the crowd.

"Because I was a Dauntless leader for 16 years. Many of you know what Dauntless was like under my guidance. I ask those of you who were there – did I ever steer you wrong?"

Again, mutters fill the room, but this time, shouts of support mix in with them. Older Dauntless members around the room pump their arms in the air, calling, "Anna! Anna! Anna!"

Behind me, Uriah says suddenly, "I remember her, from when I was a kid. My mom really liked her."

"Why did she leave?" Cara asks, but I already know the answer. The Dauntless aren't allowed to grow old. Once it gets hard to jump on and off trains, you're "encouraged" to leave – to die or become factionless. It seems that Anna found a third option.

Abruptly, I remember something Tobias said once, back when I only knew him as Four. He told me that Dauntless used to be different, but that the leadership changed six years ago, when Max was brought on board. Anna must represent the old Dauntless values, before they started working with Erudite, before they started killing the Divergent.

"Thank you!" Anna calls to those shouting her name. "I should ask, too, of every initiate Amar ever trained – did he steer you wrong?"

Again, people shout, "No!" and others chant his name. Tobias makes a little movement, like he wants to answer too, but he stops himself.

I can feel the mood of the crowd shifting. They're listening, and beginning to agree. Anna knows how to work them well.

"For those who aren't Dauntless," Anna continues, "there's another reason to listen. I'm Amanda Ritter's daughter." My pulse leaps into my throat. Amanda Ritter used another name, too – Edith Prior… which means that Anna must be related to me. The connection springs to mind just as she says the words. "And Natalie Prior's mother."

Tobias' hand clutches mine hard, but now I'm the one who is rigid and barely able to hear. My pulse is pounding in my ears, and my mind is racing. My mother grew up in Dauntless. As almost her last words to me, she said that she was Divergent, and that she only stayed safe because her mother was a Dauntless leader. Anna is that leader, my grandmother. Why did it never occur to me that she might still be alive? I never even thought to look for her face among the factionless.

But of course I didn't. I never knew her name. With a twinge, I remember my mother telling me that she didn't care about factions, that she loved me because I'm her daughter. But she told me nothing about her own life, nothing about her past. She raised me to believe in faction before blood after all.

Or perhaps she didn't know that her mother was still alive. I think of the shocked reactions among the crowd. Clearly, everyone thought these people were dead. Did my mother believe that too, like Tobias believed his mother had died? Anger rises in me at the thought. When my mother died, it felt like part of me was ripped out and I was left writhing in pain. Did she feel that too, because of a lie? And what kind of people are these three, who do that to the ones who love them, and then ask us to trust them anyway?

I'm vaguely aware that Christina's hand is on my shoulder and that Tobias is speaking to me, but all I want to do is shake this woman who claims to be my grandmother and get her to tell me the truth, to tell me everything.

Tobias shifts in front of me, holding my arms firmly and leaning down so I have to look at his eyes. They're wide and almost black in the moonlight, and they finally break me out of my thoughts.

"Are you all right?" he asks, his voice low.

I swallow. "Yeah. Are you?"

He smiles a little. "I'll live."

"We need to get closer," Cara says, "so we can talk to them. I have questions, and I'm sure you do too." She's right about that.

Tobias nods grimly and pulls his gun, but he keeps it down as he turns toward the crowd. The rest of us do the same, and we walk together to join the people surrounding the outsiders. They shift to make room without seeming to actually notice us. Their eyes, like ours, are focused forwards.

But _they_ see us – Anna and Amar and Marcus and Johanna. Their eyes lock onto us immediately, and I know without needing to be told that they were hoping to find us here. That's not really a surprise. They want the Divergent, and Tobias and I are as Divergent as you can get.

Anna's eyes rest on mine as she says, "I believe it's time for some explanations."

"That would be good," I answer calmly, and I see Marcus' mouth curve into a little smile.

"This city was part of a country called the United States of America," Anna begins. "There was a major war, _a worldwide war_, that destroyed entire countries and killed billions of people. Every weapon imaginable was used in humanity's quest to destroy itself. Bombs reshaped the landscape, and the massive lake that used to be here flowed away. This city ended up isolated, and everyone abandoned it. So, it was perfect for our use."

She smiles a little, sadly, and continues. "Toward the end of the war, both sides started experimenting with serums that could control people's thoughts. One side came up with what we call the Suggestibility Serum. As the name implies, it makes people follow suggestions from others. The developers used it to win the war, and they formed the New United States of America, or NUSA as we call it.

But they were afraid of their own population afterwards, afraid of losing their power, so they kept using the serum. They add it to the country's water supplies, so _everyone_ drinks it every day. And they inject a receiver into every newborn baby, hidden inside a vaccination, so everyone receives the information they broadcast. That way, they can keep the entire population living as slaves." Her expression is bitter.

"But some people are naturally resistant to the serum. A group of them escaped from NUSA's control and came here. They reshaped Chicago into the city you know, and they've kept it safe and hidden for nearly 60 years now. During that time, they've sometimes pulled people out, when there was a strong need. That's how they've kept you all safe." She gestures to Amar and George and herself and says, "We're some of those people. I know you're angry that we fooled you, but there was no choice. You wouldn't still be here, alive and free, if they hadn't done that." She looks at me again, and I hesitate. My instincts say that she's telling the truth, and I usually trust my instincts, but I have no objective way to be sure.

George speaks, his voice hesitant and his eyes on Tori. "The NUSA government is constantly trying to track down rebels. And when they do, they use a high dose of the serum to get information. No one can resist that type of dose. So, it's bad when they capture a rebel who knows about this city, really bad." He clears his throat and continues. "When they pulled me out, that had just happened, and they were mounting a rescue mission. They needed someone who was strongly Divergent, and they knew I was in danger here, so they picked me." He shrugs a little. "It kept me alive, and it kept the whole city safe for a while longer. Or at least safer than it would have been." His eyes plead with Tori, and I'm reminded suddenly of the way Caleb looked at me in Erudite. When Tori looks away, I can't blame her.

"Why didn't you just tell us what was going on?" Cara asks. "Why keep it all secret?"

George gives a short laugh. "We've been trying for almost two decades, but Jeanine got in the way. She decided she wasn't interested in stopping NUSA. Instead, she isolated the serum and began experimenting with it. She used it to get Erudite and half of Dauntless to follow her. She used it in the aptitude tests, to get people to switch factions when she wanted. She used it in those simulations you're so familiar with. And she used it in high doses to make people betray their friends and family to serve her."

The words send a chill through me, and suddenly it's difficult to breathe. Beside me, Tobias clenches my arm tightly, and I turn to him. But I already know what he's thinking, what he's going to say. The words echo through me. _Betray their friends and family…_

Tobias' eyes are intense on mine as he says, "We have to rescue Caleb." It's all I can do to nod.

"So, you see," Anna says, "you already know what you'll be facing when NUSA's army gets here. Total mind control for the rest of your lives – everything you just fought to avoid. And they're on their way. Because in all the chaos of this war, we weren't able to rescue the last rebel they caught."

For a moment, I close my eyes and try to picture the world they're describing. The image comes all too easily. The blank eyes in Amanda Ritter's video as their owners murdered and destroyed. The slack Dauntless faces as their hands shot Abnegation leaders in the head. Marlene stepping off the building with no knowledge of what she was doing. The expressionless Candor firing at Fernando as he climbed across the ladder.

"What do you need us to do?" I ask. Again, a shadow of a smile crosses Marcus' face, and I feel Tobias tense beside me, but Anna looks me in the eyes and nods seriously.

"We need a group of highly resistant people – what you call Divergent – to go to the capitol and seize control of the equipment they use to broadcast messages. We need to broadcast our own message, to counter what the government has been sending, so we can free everyone."

Her eyes move from me to Tobias and to the others beside us, and then she says, "We'd like at least ten volunteers for that, preferably more." As she looks around at the crowd, she adds, "And we need everyone else to organize into an army, to protect this city if the NUSA soldiers get here before our mission succeeds."

I nod, about to speak, but Tobias places a hand on my arm, and I pause. He must want to discuss something first. I remember how angry I was when he made a deal with Evelyn without speaking to me privately first, so I close my mouth and wait for now.

Christina asks, "Only the Divergent can go?"

Anna shakes her head. "It's not quite that simple. We need people who are resistant to the Suggestibility Serum. Divergent people are, but so are some others. People who switched factions, for instance, are more likely to be resistant, as are people who were in Erudite but didn't side with Jeanine. We can test you if you want to come."

"How do you do that?" Cara asks suspiciously.

"We administer a low dose of the serum and gradually increase it until you begin to respond. It tells us how much you can take."

"What are the risks of that?" Tobias asks, his voice as tense as wire. His eyes flick to his father and back again, and I realize he's worried about something he hasn't told me. For a moment, I'm furious that he's keeping secrets again, but then I realize he hasn't had time to tell me about his day at Erudite yet. I try to believe that's what triggered his concern.

The rebels look at each other uncomfortably, and then Amar says quietly, "That depends on the person. The serum finds a path through your brain that gets you to follow the suggestion, and it strengthens that path. The higher the dose, the stronger the effect. Sometimes, if someone has a latent tendency towards a particular behavior, a high dose can bring that out." He glances at Marcus and then looks back at Tobias. "But it can't change who you are. It can't make you do something that's fundamentally against your nature." He steps toward Tobias and says again, "It can't."

That seems like an odd thing to stress, but as I look between Amar and Tobias, I begin to understand. Right or wrong, Tobias thinks that Marcus was given a high dose… and that it may have caused his violence.

And that it could do the same thing to him.

I don't know what to say.

"For what it's worth," Anna says, looking directly at Tobias, "we know that Jeanine added the serum to her mass simulations. And while we weren't able to get ahold of all the other simulation serums she tried, we strongly suspect they had even higher doses. It was her pet project, after all. So, if you were exposed to those and didn't react badly, you aren't likely to."

Tobias doesn't look reassured, but I know he must be thinking what I am. There isn't really a choice here. He and I stand the best chance of succeeding in this mission, and if the mission doesn't succeed, the battle will come here. There's no safety in either option.

I pull his arm, and he brings his ear to my mouth. "We have to go," I whisper into it. He closes his eyes for a moment and then fixes his gaze straight ahead. He nods crisply, but he won't look at me.

"We'll go," I say to Anna.

Her eyes are thoughtful, and I think sad, as she nods. "Thank you," she says quietly. Then, she turns to the rest of the room. "Who else will go?"

But I don't hear the other responses. I hold Tobias' hand firmly and lean against him, trying to figure out how to reassure him that his greatest fears won't come true. That he won't become like his father, and he won't hurt me. And perhaps trying to believe it myself.

_**Author's Note: Okay, the main plot has been revealed. Please take a moment to write a review and let me know what you think... Thanks!**_


	8. Chapter 8: Tobias - Decisions

**Chapter 8: Tobias – Decisions**

When I wake up, the space next to me is cold and empty. For a split second, I panic, as if she's gone to Erudite again, and then I'm annoyed with myself. She just woke up first, that's all. It's hardly surprising, given I was awake for more than 24 hours. But it's also the first time that's happened since we escaped from Jeanine.

I hear her voice filtering through the door, talking with Christina, and I'm about to join them when I decide it's time to do something about the accumulated sweat and grime and blood coating me.

The water is ice cold, but I force myself into the shower anyway. It burns almost like heat on the bruises covering my mid-section. The Dauntless were certainly thorough yesterday. But I scrub myself clean, gritting my teeth against the frigid temperature and the pain. I even shave – it's probably a bit stupid, given how much my hands are trying to shake from the cold, but it's almost a game at this point to see if I can hold them steady despite everything else. It's a skill that's helped me too many times for me to abandon it now.

When I finish, I pull out some of the clothes we collected from Candor, selecting black pants and a white shirt. It feels like a good day for honesty.

For a moment, I stand in front of the mirror, evaluating myself. It's hard for me to look at my reflection without seeing aspects of my father in me. I suppose it's because mirrors were so rare growing up in Abnegation, so I only saw those features on Marcus. But it's a reminder I don't want. I stare anyway, willing myself to see past that, to see who I am. Not my father's son, or even my mother's. Not a child of Abnegation, or someone shaped by Dauntless. Me. Am I anything more than that?

As I stare, other faces slowly begin to form around me, and I try to define myself through my connections to them. I'm Tris' boyfriend. She's saved my life, and I've saved hers. I've bent the city for her, and I don't regret that. In fact, I feel stronger for it. I'm Zeke's friend. I kept his brother safe through initiation, during what was probably the most dangerous time ever to be Divergent, and I protected him through the battle in ways he never noticed. I was in Shauna's initiation class. I fought Eric to help her and carried her to safety after she was shot outside Candor. I was Amar's friend, until he disappeared, and I thought he was dead. I honored him by protecting the initiates after he was gone.

When I think of them, I feel like I could be the person I want to be, brave and selfless and smart and honest and maybe even kind, sometimes. But I know I'm also the person who killed at least eight people in the last two weeks, including Eric. I'm also the person who betrayed Tori. She was the first one to make me think I could leave Abnegation and seek safety elsewhere, and I turned on her. And I'm the person who's terrified to leave the city when it needs me most. As I think that, I see the cowering boy my father beat, the one who watched as he hit my mother, the one who protects himself first, no matter the cost to others. I need to leave that person behind today. I don't know quite how, but I can't be him anymore if I'm going to leave this city with Tris. And I will do that.

I look directly into my eyes in the mirror and say the words I've said to every initiate before they face their fears, the words I said to Eric before I shot him. "Be brave."

And then I walk into the other room to join Tris and my friends.

They're gathered in a small circle, relaxing on a pile of blankets on the floor. Christina's leg is propped up, and she's leaning against Uriah, who looks somewhat uncomfortable with the contact. He's probably thinking of Marlene. He doesn't need to; I doubt Christina is looking for anything more than back support right now. She's still too hung up on Will. Cara and Tris sit to either side, Cara with her hair neatly arranged as always, and Tris looking clean and wearing fresh clothes. She must have braved the cold water like I did. For a moment, my eyes take in her face, with her incredible eyes and those lips I love so much, and I wish we were alone.

"We're trying to figure out a rescue plan," Tris says.

I nod. "What have you come up with so far?"

"Not much," Christina answers. "To be honest, I think we're lacking motivation. I mean, how much are we going to risk ourselves to keep _Caleb_ safe?"

"You know," I respond, "I'd think that would make it easier. When Tris was in there, the plan had to be perfect, but with Caleb – well, if he breaks a leg or something in the escape, these things happen, right?"

Tris laughs, and Christina grins too. "Hmm, I'm getting it now," she says to Tris. "I'm beginning to see why you like him."

"Sorry," Tris says, her eyes on me, "but he's mine." I smile too.

"No problem," Christina laughs. "He's too scary for me anyway." And then her eyes light up with a realization, and she turns to Tris, saying, "Faceless, unidentifiable male, my ass! It was–" But Tris punches her hard in the arm, and she stops mid-sentence.

I don't know what they're talking about, but judging by the red spreading across Tris' face, I can take a guess. And I don't like it. I don't like that Tris had that fear in the first place – that she saw _me_ in her fear landscape and that she's afraid of being with me in a way I increasingly want. And I certainly don't like that she apparently told Christina about it. Zeke always complains about how women tell each other everything, but somehow I never thought Tris was like that.

My face must show my reaction, because Tris is stammering now, trying to explain. "No, _that_ never really had anything to do with… anyone in particular." _Faceless, unidentifiable male?_ At least she didn't tell Christina everything. "I'm not sure you could really understand unless you grew up in Abnegation." She looks up at me helplessly, but suddenly I'm focused on a single word. _Had._ Past tense. The annoyance vanishes, replaced by a mixture of hope and, oddly, amusement. The look on Tris' face truly is funny.

"I have no idea what you mean," I say casually. "As far as I know, people from Abnegation only have four fears, and they're all good, solid, manly fears." Christina snorts, and I continue, "People from Candor, on the other hand, are universally afraid of moths for some reason."

"Hey!" Christina exclaims. "That's not fair! Just because you saw my simulations doesn't mean you get to share them."

"Actually, it's very common to be afraid of insects," Cara states in a clinical tone. "It's probably a primitive fear we've carried forward from the distant past."

"Yeah, Four told me it was one of the best fears to fake," Uriah adds, "because no one would look at it closely."

The others all turn to stare at him, the beginning of the conversation forgotten now.

"What do you mean, _fake?_" Tris asks.

Uriah shrugs. "Well, my biggest fear was having the Dauntless leaders find out I'm Divergent. That was my first simulation. It would have been… kind of a problem if anyone else had seen it." He looks at me and adds, "So, Four deleted it and taught me how to fake another fear instead." He grins at Christina. "As far as my official records are concerned, I'm deathly afraid of spiders."

I've never seen Tris' face look so blank. After a pause, she says, "You can fake a fear?" at the same time Christina says, "You seriously had to use a fake fear? What, don't you have any other _real_ ones you could use?"

"Yes," I answer to both questions. "He just needed the computer to skip past his first fear and find the others. There's a technique you can use for that. It's kind of like how you can manipulate a simulation, Tris, by focusing on the image of a weapon and making it appear, or breaking a wall by thinking it's fragile. Or for that matter, like skipping some facts while under truth serum." I give her a pointed look. "You create a strong mental image and you project it to the computer. The computer focuses on it, and from there it moves on to other thoughts that are connected to that. So, if you provide a fake fear that leads to real fears, you can get it to skip the one you need to hide."

"That's absolutely brilliant," Tris says. "Where did you learn that?"

The question has an uncomfortable answer, and for a moment I hesitate. But I've promised not to keep secrets from Tris, and there's no real reason to hide this from the others.

"Marcus taught it to me," I finally say. "When he was preparing me for the aptitude test. He was afraid I would show my Divergence, so he taught me some tips on manipulating the simulation. I never needed this one myself." I don't add the reason why not. That's already obvious enough. "But it was useful to Uriah."

For a moment, everyone is silent, and then Tris says quietly, "I wonder where he learned it." I never thought about that before, but the answer is apparent now, after last night. I don't bother saying it aloud, because Tris has clearly figured it out already, and the others don't need to know. He learned it outside this city.

* * *

After lunch, we focus again on how to rescue Caleb. I hate even thinking about the subject. It's a painful reminder of when Tris was there, and I was searching wildly for every possible way to retrieve her. It doesn't help that most of me would be quite happy to let Caleb die; I'm still far too angry at him. But someone needs to take charge of this effort, and if it's hard for me, it must be even harder for Tris.

"How did you get into Erudite two days ago?" I ask.

Tris, Christina, and Cara exchange looks, and then Cara says, "We found a ladder in the old school by the headquarters building, and we used it to form a bridge between the two buildings – connecting one window to another. Then, we climbed across it." As an afterthought, she adds, "It was Tris' idea."

For a moment, I picture all the people we shot making our way into Erudite, and I feel the full effect of not working with Tris during that battle. We could have entered the building together if I hadn't been too stubborn to listen, if I hadn't automatically dismissed what she said as my father's lies. But there's no point wallowing in guilt. As the Abnegation always say – said – I should let it remind me to do better next time. This time.

"I don't think anyone else knows you did that," I say, "so we could try it again."

"I imagine they found the ladder," Cara responds. "Either still between the windows or on the ground below, depending on whether or not it fell after Fernando died on it." Uriah winces at the description, but Cara continues. "Either way, they probably figured it out. Besides, that was the only ladder we could find."

"We could do something similar with rope, if someone can tie it at the other end. Zeke, for instance." I hate asking Zeke for another favor, but I feel confident that he'd help.

"If only we had rope," Christina says caustically, but Tris' gaze meets mine, and we both smile.

"That, I can get," I say. "The harder part will be getting a message to Zeke. I'm not really welcome in factionless territory anymore, or Dauntless territory for that matter."

To my surprise, the others laugh. Uriah looks proud as he states, "That part, I can handle."

_**Reviews are the best incentive to post again soon... and are always appreciated. Thanks!**_


	9. Chapter 9: Tris - Fearless

**_Thank you so much for the reviews! They really motivate me to post frequently. This chapter goes a direction many of you have requested. I hope you enjoy it._**

**Chapter 9: Tris - Fearless**

By the time it's dark, we've worked out the details of the rescue plan. The actual rescue will take place tomorrow, since Christina and Cara both volunteered to be tested tonight, and Anna wants us to head out late tomorrow night.

I don't know how I hope the test will go. It's been really nice hanging out with Christina again, but I still remember her blank face during the simulation. If she goes with us, and she's not resistant enough, she's a danger to herself and to all of us. Will's face floats before me, and I know my real fear is that I'll have to stop her like I stopped him. That I'll have to shoot her. Maybe it's better if she stays here.

We head to the Hancock building together, since that's where the outsiders will be meeting the people who want to be tested. Before we get there, Tobias and I break off like we did last night. It's our job to get the rope and the other supplies we'll need for tomorrow, and then we'll all meet back at the other apartment an hour before dawn, at the latest.

The moon hasn't risen yet, so it's dark when we enter the damaged lobby. I don't like the thought of walking over all that broken glass without light, but Tobias seems to know the path well, and he leads me through the darkness easily. I wonder how many times he's been here.

We walk to his factionless apartment quietly, feeling the total silence like a pressure in the air. It's funny that we never seem to notice how loud the world is until all the noise is gone.

I breathe a sigh of relief once we're in the apartment, with the lamplight glowing softly through the room again. It occurs to me that this is probably the safest we'll be for a long time. We should try to enjoy it.

I turn around to comment on that, but I stop at the sight of Tobias. He stands facing me, his expression serious and unusually vulnerable.

He clears his throat and begins a bit stiffly, "We said no secrets… so I need to tell you about yesterday..." But his voice trails off like he doesn't know how to continue, and he wraps a hand around the back of his neck as his eyes drift to the floor.

For a moment, I think of his arms around me last night as he taught me to shoot again, so much gentleness in his voice and his hold. And he did that after everything he'd been through – the Dauntless beating him, whatever spooked him so much about his father, the battle, my betrayal, and rescuing me – _twice_ – from Erudite. A rush of affection goes through me, and I step close to him, wrapping my arms around his waist and resting my ear over his heart.

"I think I've guessed most of it," I say quietly.

For a few seconds, he stands there, his body rigid, but then he lets out a shaky breath and runs a hand lightly down my spine, his palm coming to rest on the small of my back as his other hand moves over my hair. It's hard to tell if he's soothing himself or me.

"I've been thinking about it all day," I add. "And the thing is, you're not like him. You're just not."

He stiffens again, and his voice is tense as he says, "You don't know that, Tris. Neither of us can know that. All we know is that I'm not like him _now_." He pauses, and the next words tear out of him painfully. "My mother says I'm just like he was at my age."

I pull back enough to look at him, a coldness filling me. "She's lying," I say angrily. "She doesn't want you to leave the city, so she's trying to scare you."

He shakes his head, his eyes looking everywhere but at me. "You didn't see her. She was telling the truth."

But I don't believe it.

"No," I say firmly. "She may have convinced herself of that, but that doesn't make her right." I place my palm on his chest, feeling his heartbeat fast and hard, and continue. "The first time I met her, you know what she told me?" He finally looks at me again, shaking his head slightly.

"She said that I'm only temporary in your life. That she's the only one who's permanent." His eyes widen, and I add in the same firm voice, "She wasn't lying when she said it, but was she right?"

For a moment, he just stares at me. His voice sounds strangled when he says, "What?!"

I give a little shrug. "It's her opinion – it's not as simple as truth or lies. She's barely seen you since you were nine, but she's your mother, so she thinks she still knows you better than anyone else does. And she makes assumptions, like how you feel, or that you agree with her, or that you're like her or your dad. But she doesn't _know_ any of that. And she's _wrong_ about this."

He's looking at me desperately, and I know he wants to believe me, but then he shakes his head again, hard. "You heard Amar last night. He practically admitted that the serum changed Marcus…"

"He also said that the serum can't change your fundamental nature. Even if it affected your father, which I'm not sure I believe, that doesn't mean it would do the same thing to you."

Tobias jerks back, his face twisted with some combination of anger and grief. "That doesn't mean it _wouldn't_, either! Believe me, I want to think I don't have that same flaw in me, but I know what I did under the simulation." His voice is harsh and his breathing ragged as he adds, "I hurt you, and I almost killed you. _And you let me._ How am I supposed to feel safe after that?"

The words shock through me. All this time, I never wanted to know how it felt to wake up from the simulation, to have to face what you'd done while under it. I never asked Tobias or Christina or anyone else about it, but now I realize how much it's been haunting him. I stare at him helplessly, trying to come up with an answer.

"I need to know," he says roughly, "that if I ever…" He struggles with the words, and I think for a moment that he can't continue, but then he finds his voice again. "If I ever become like _him_, that you won't just take it. That you'll find a way to stop me. I _need_ to know that, Tris, because trust me, I would much rather die than do that to you."

The words release the lock on my voice, and I say sternly, "Tobias, if the simulation had made you like _that_, we wouldn't be standing here right now. But it didn't. I couldn't shoot you because you were still _you_. You hadn't changed. Think about it – Jeanine threw everything she had at you. She gave you two injections in a row that were loaded with Suggestibility Serum. She projected a special simulation directly at you, one that was supposed to bring out the very worst in you. Then, she made you see me as an enemy in the middle of a war. But despite all that, the most she could get you to do was try to stop me.

You were never cruel, not once the whole time we fought. You didn't hurt me for the sake of hurting me – at all. You had several chances to shoot me, but you _didn't_. You just kept trying to stop me. And even when the simulation was screaming at you the loudest to kill me, you wouldn't do it. Instead, you woke yourself up." I shake my head. "You didn't almost kill me, Tobias. You made it clear that you never would, no matter what they do to you."

His breathing is shaky, and his eyes are glued desperately to mine, but I think he finally believes me. I step close to him again, placing my hands on his chest as I look up at his face.

"Jeanine couldn't change you because you're _not_ like your father. I know I've called you cruel before, but I'm sorry I said that, because it's not true. I only thought it was when I didn't understand your reasons for doing something. But now, I know that I've _never_ seen you be cruel. You're a good person, Tobias, all the way to your core. You're the best person I know."

I give him a little smile and add, "And I'm not afraid of you. Not even a little bit." I stand on tiptoes and kiss him.

For another second, he stands rigidly, and then he takes my face in his hands, his fingers sliding through my hair and wrapping around the back of my neck. He tilts my head up and leans down to rest his forehead on mine. We stand that way while his breathing slows to normal.

"I love you, Tris," he whispers.

"I love you, too."

He fits his mouth to mine, and we kiss slowly, warmth spreading through me from everywhere we touch.

After a long time, he pulls away. "We should gather the supplies," he says, his voice low and steady.

"Why?" I ask. "For a change, we're not in a hurry."

His eyes hold mine, and a smile spreads through them. His fingers brush down my arms, making my skin tingle, and he shapes them to the slight curve of my hips.

"You're right_,_" he murmurs. "We have all kinds of time." And he leans down again, his lips moving slowly along my jaw, his breath warming my ear, and then he works his way down my neck. A sigh of pleasure comes out of me, and I feel his fingers pushing my jacket off my shoulders. I let it fall behind me, and suddenly, I feel bold, bolder than I've ever felt before. I push his jacket off him and slide my hands under his shirt, lifting it from him and tossing it onto the floor.

His skin is soft and smooth and feels impossibly good on my hands, and I want to feel more of it. I kiss him on his chest, and down along his stomach, and I smile when he gives a little groan of longing. I've never thought of myself as pretty, but when he looks at me like that, like I'm the only person he could possibly ever want, I feel desirable. I like the feeling.

I stand up, sliding my hands up his back so I can feel his muscles, strong and perfect under my palms. He grins.

"So," he says in a low voice, barely above a whisper. "Exactly how many fears do you have these days, Tris?"

I laugh. "You'll have to define that word, Tobias, because right now I have no idea what fear is."

He laughs too, and then he crouches in front of me, his hands sliding my shirt up slowly as he kisses my stomach and begins working his way upward. For a moment, I remember that I'm bony and small breasted, but the thought is gone long before he gets there, lost in the pleasure and longing spreading from his fingers and his lips.

I'm vaguely aware of my shirt falling to the floor, and then he's holding me close, our skin pressing together, our lips on each other, and I still want more. More and closer as I reach for his belt.

And then our hands are pulling off the last items of clothing that stand between us, and he's reaching back to his pants to get something from the pocket, and we're kissing again, and then more than kissing, and the love and the excitement and the joy and the yearning are mixing together into some new emotion that deserves a name all its own.

_**Reviews are definitely welcome... Thank you!**_


	10. Chapter 10: Tobias - 3:30 am

**_A/N: This is a very short chapter, just to show Tobias' reaction to the previous evening before the action starts again._**

**Chapter 10: Tobias – 3:30 a.m.**

When I wake up at 3:30, Tris' warm body is snuggled against mine, her head resting in the crook of my arm. For a moment, I just let awareness of her fill me, noticing every place her skin touches mine, running the whole length of her. I've never woken up to a better moment.

Last night wasn't what I expected. Health class in school just taught us the clinical basics of how the body works, and Abnegation ignored the subject of sex altogether. So, most of my information came from guys talking in the locker room, full of bravado and exaggeration of their exploits. They always made it sound like the whole thing was about physical pleasure, and there was certainly plenty of that – far more intense than I imagined – but for me, that was only part of it. The larger part, I know without question, was only there because I was with Tris. I used to be embarrassed about being so inexperienced at the age of 18, but now I'm glad my first time was with her. I wouldn't have traded this for anything.

Tris shifts slightly, and feeling begins to return to my arm. It must have fallen asleep from being pressed under her. Pins and needles shoot through my wrist and fingers, painfully sharp, but I can't move my arm without disturbing her, and right now I'd rather gnaw it off than do that. She looks so sweet snuggled there.

Come to think of it, I guess we should have turned the lamp off. There's no point wasting batteries. But it's out of reach, and I decide I don't care that much. We probably won't need it after tonight anyway. Instead, I turn my head away from the light, pressing my lips to Tris' soft hair and breathing in her scent, and I let myself return to sleep. My dreams are amazing the rest of the night, but no more so than reality. This is how life should always be.

**_A/N: I've gotten almost no responses to the last chapter, so I'm thinking that something about it must not have worked well. If that's true, I'd like to rewrite it before I move on much farther, since the chapters are cumulative, and I don't want to build on a bad base. Please take the time to let me know what you liked and didn't like about it, so I can address the problems and not break something that worked. Thanks!_**


	11. Chapter 11: Tris - Breaking In

_**Thank you very much for the feedback on the last couple of chapters. I was worried that there was a major problem with them, but after reading your responses, I'm going to leave them as-is and just continue with the story. This chapter gets back into the action, with a bit of a twist. I hope you enjoy it!**_

**Chapter 11: Tris – Breaking In**

The Dauntless are being housed in the north end of the Erudite compound, so our closest option is a building on the other side of Garland Court. We slip quietly past the large supports under the train tracks and into the Wabash Avenue entrance just as the sun is starting to light the sky. The building is silent and empty as we make our way cautiously to the back of the 8th floor.

The windows don't line up well, so it takes several tries to find a spot where we can see the broken window next to Zeke's room. We're above and to the right of a straight view, but it's as near as we can get – some 40 feet away. A ladder clearly wouldn't have worked from here.

We watch the street below for factionless patrols and time the guards as they pass. There's almost an 8-minute interval between rounds. It's long enough to work with.

A minute after the third patrol, Tobias pries the window to the fire escape open, positions himself where he has a clear shot, and begins throwing pebbles carefully at Zeke's window. He hits it every time, and I can't help but smile a little at his aim.

"He's a heavy sleeper," Uriah says with a shrug after the tenth pebble. At least we have a bucket full of them.

Tobias stops a minute before the next patrol is due, stepping back from the window and next to me. We wait in silence, but after a moment, he turns to look at me, a little smile on his face. I can't prevent a return smile from forming. In some ways, today feels awkward, after last night, but I've also never felt closer to him. He places his hands on my hips and leans down, kissing me slowly. It feels like electricity is pulsing through every part of my body.

"You know, there are other rooms you two could go to if you really need one," Cara says eventually, and I realize the guard must be well past by now. Tobias pulls away, his eyes on mine for a moment longer before he turns to the others.

"Just filling the time," he answers calmly as he resumes his place by the window, tossing pebbles again.

I clear my throat and turn to Christina. "How did the test go?"

She grimaces in annoyance. "I'm resistant, but not as much as they'd like. Between that and my leg injury, they basically put me on the bottom of the list. If they get enough other people, I'm out. Otherwise, maybe I can go." She shrugs as if to say _who needs them anyway_. Then she adds, "Cara did better."

"Yes," Cara answers in her precise manner. "It seems that betraying Jeanine from within Erudite took a high level of resistance. And helping you took even more. They said I tested almost as high as the Divergent."

She purses her lips thoughtfully and then adds, "I don't quite trust them, though. They don't seem to be telling us everything."

"What do you mean?" Tobias asks, an edge to his voice.

"Well, some of their explanations didn't make sense, and they didn't answer when I pressed them on it." She looks at us like she's trying to figure out how to explain it in simple enough terms and then says, "For instance, they said that Jeanine isolated the serum by comparing unfiltered water from outside the city with the water after it's been filtered. But if the point of founding this city was to breed a resistant population, they wouldn't do that by filtering _out_ the serum. It's a basic principle of science that more exposure leads to more resistance, not the other way around."

"So, they've been _adding_ the serum to our water?" I say, my voice tight.

"That's the most logical explanation," Cara answers. "Assuming they started with a naturally resistant population, the best way to make us more resistant would be to keep us constantly exposed to higher and higher doses. It's like an alcoholic needing to drink larger and larger quantities to get drunk." She pauses thoughtfully and then adds, "That would also fit with the way they set up our society. If the serum makes us embrace what we're taught, we would stay in the faction we were raised in unless we're resistant enough to choose another. And it's well known that faction transfers tend to marry other transfers, because they have that common background, so it's a good way of ensuring that the most resistant people have children together, and those children would probably be even more resistant. It's very effective."

For a moment, we all stare at Cara. "What?" she asks. "I didn't say I agree with it, just that it meets their goals."

"Yay," Christina says bitterly. "We're prize cows…"

I laugh, but only briefly. I don't like the thought that these people have been manipulating us all our lives, the same way they said the outside government was. But I have to admit that Cara's probably right. It's consistent with what Amanda Ritter said in the video.

"Do you think there's anything else they haven't told us?" I ask Cara, but Uriah waves his hands frantically, and Tobias steps back from the window again, and I realize the factionless guard must be making another round. Just how soundly does Zeke sleep?

We're quiet for the next minute, and then Tobias resumes throwing pebbles. This time, there's a flutter of curtains at Zeke's window, and we can see his face peering out. Tobias immediately tosses another pebble, and Zeke turns directly toward us. His mouth forms an "o" of surprise, and then he grins as he pushes his window open to see us better.

Uriah begins signaling, holding up his open hand for a dash and a closed fist for a dot. Zeke signals back, the two of them flying through their code so fast I have no idea what they're saying. I feel a twinge watching them. We're here to rescue my brother, but Caleb and I were never anywhere near as close as these two. It feels wrong to put them at risk to help him.

After a moment, Uriah says, "Caleb's trial was yesterday, and they found him guilty. His execution is scheduled for next Tuesday." His words bring the reality home, and I know that I can't let Caleb die. My parents would never approve, no matter what he did, especially if he really was under some form of mind control. I try to believe he was. It's not enough to make me forgive him, but it's easier not to hate him so much that way.

Uriah continues signaling and then asks, "Where do we want to try crossing to the other building, and when?"

"The windows don't line up well enough," I say, "so it has to be the roof, doesn't it?"

I glance at Tobias, knowing how he hates heights, but he just nods. "We can't all make it within six minutes, and we can't risk having someone spot the rope during the day, so it'll have to be after dark. But the sooner after the sun goes down, the better. We still have a lot to do tonight."

Uriah nods and finishes the Morse conversation. "Okay," he says eventually. "Zeke will make it work." He smiles a little and then adds, "But he says you owe him big time. Something about Tris having to kiss him…"

I look up, startled, at the same time Tobias says, "I didn't realize Zeke had such a death wish."

Uriah smiles. "It's the Dauntless in him. He can't help himself. But feel free to tell Shauna he said that."

Tobias grins. "I'm pretty sure we can work that into the plan."

* * *

We stake out the roof well in advance. I don't know where Zeke will attach the rope on his side, but there are stone pillars we can wrap it around on ours. The bigger problem will be the actual passage. It's a slight climb to the other roof, but there's not a huge height difference, so it won't be an easy passage either direction. We'll have to haul ourselves with our hands and legs.

Cara looks downright scared as she evaluates the drop. "I don't think I can do this," she says shakily. "I'm not as strong as the rest of you."

Tobias presses his mouth into a line. "No, you're not, but we need you to guide us once we're there."

I look behind us. We're standing on a roof, but part of the building continues above us into a tower. It's even farther away from the other building, probably 50-60 feet away in total, but the extra height could make the trip easier in some ways.

"What if we go up higher?" I ask. "And use one of those windows. If we get enough of a height difference, we could slide down the rope to that roof easily."

"Kind of like zip-lining," Uriah agrees, "but without a harness."

Tobias thinks about that and then says, "We can't come back that way – it would be too steep a climb and too far. And we don't have enough rope to make two paths. Besides, it's harder to get on the rope from a window than a roof."

I nod. "Okay, then maybe we can form a safety harness of some kind and tie that over the rope. So, if anyone loses their grip, there's something to catch them."

Cara still looks scared, but I can tell the idea is reassuring to her. I doubt it will make a difference to Tobias, though. His fear is of the height itself, and perhaps of the rope breaking – not of his ability to hold his own weight across the gap. He's too strong to worry about that part.

"That's a good idea," Christina says, and to my surprise, she looks almost as hesitant as Cara. I don't know why, since Christina held herself over the chasm with just her fingertips. She's certainly strong enough and fearless enough to manage this. But then I remember her leg. There's no way for her to avoid using it for this particular task, and I don't know how she can carry her crutch either. I remember Fernando's glasses falling as he crossed on the ladder, and how he died for that mistake.

"You're going to have to stay here," I say quietly. "You know that, don't you?"

Her mouth pulls into a sour expression, but she nods. "Yeah, I'm not dumb." She sighs and adds, "It's okay. I probably would have slowed you guys down, anyway. I'll just… stay here and help you climb onto the roof when you come back."

* * *

We spend the day making safety harnesses. The design takes some thought, since none of us has made anything like it before, and then actually making the harnesses proves to be quite a process. It takes ages to cut through the rope to form each piece. But we have them done an hour before dark, in time to head back to the roof for the other preparations.

Tobias attaches the main rope firmly around one of the stone pillars and tests it repeatedly to ensure it's solid. He has the rest of us double-check it, too, just in case. There can't be any mistakes.

Then, we stand there waiting, Tobias' fingers laced through mine, as the worry grows stronger and stronger inside me. The first part of the plan doesn't bother me – I've always loved heights – but I'm increasingly nervous about the rest of it. How can I risk my friends' lives for Caleb? How can I possibly risk _Tobias'_ life for someone who betrayed me?

Tobias must sense my thoughts, because he begins sliding his thumb in gentle circles on the back of my hand. I know he means it as a soothing gesture, but it reminds me of being in a train full of Dauntless under the simulation, headed to Abnegation to murder their leaders. I went there to save my parents… But Caleb got there first. And suddenly it occurs to me that they would have died before I reached them if he hadn't been there. I wouldn't have been able to see them that last time. For that matter, I would have died, too, without my mother there to save me from Jeanine's water tank. It's still not enough to make me forgive him, but it does make me feel a little better about what we're doing.

And then Zeke is on the other roof, and Tobias throws the weighted rope across the long gap between the buildings. Zeke catches it neatly and secures it. I'm not sure where, but he's the one who attached me to the zip-lining harness a thousand years ago, so I have to trust that he can tie a good knot.

Uriah is the first to cross. It's hard to see him well in the growing darkness, but I don't hear any problems, and after a while, I feel him tug the rope in the pattern that indicates he's safe.

"Cara, you're next," Tobias says firmly, and without waiting for a response, he begins connecting her safety harness. I can feel, rather than see, how much Cara is shaking, but she doesn't complain, and she begins crossing wordlessly. It takes her far longer than it took Uriah, but eventually we feel the same tug saying she got there.

"Tris, you're up," he says tightly, his hands on my shoulders as he guides me to the right spot. He secures the harness carefully, checking it four times, though he must know that it's really just a formality. The harness concept was for Cara. The rest of us aren't likely to need them at all.

Halfway across, I realize I was wrong about that. It's much harder to hold onto the rope than I expected, particularly since my shoulder hasn't entirely healed from the gunshot wound weeks ago. I slip twice, barely catching myself both times. The adrenaline pounds through me, and I'm very glad to have the harness holding me in place.

By the time I get to the other side, my palms are moist with sweat, and they burn from holding the rope so tightly. Uriah and Zeke pull me up, each of them holding an arm. My legs are wobbly when I'm finally standing again, and I step back enough to hide the shakiness in the darkness.

"Thanks," I mutter.

"Are you okay?" Uriah asks with concern, and I suspect my voice must be shaking a little too.

"I'm fine," I say firmly. And then I add, "But I'm not kissing either of you."

Zeke laughs. "Now, how can you possibly resist this?" he says, and even in the dark, I can see him waving his hands grandly across his front. I don't answer. There's really not much I can say to that.

Tobias crosses much more quickly than I expected. Perhaps it's easier for him to move fast so he has less time to think about the height. When Zeke and Uriah pull him up, Zeke gives him a quick hug. It's a Dauntless gesture that probably makes Tobias uncomfortable, but he doesn't say anything. Instead, he joins me immediately, giving my hand a quick squeeze. His body still feels stiff from suppressed fear.

"Your girlfriend reneged on the kiss," Zeke says after a moment, "so I guess _you_ owe me one."

Tobias gives a slightly strangled laugh and says, "Later. Right now, we have a different unpleasant task to complete."

"Right," Zeke comments. "I brought you some less suspicious shirts. They've got everyone wearing mixed colors now, to 'help eliminate our attachment to the former factions.'" He does a surprisingly good imitation of Evelyn as he says that. In his normal voice, he adds, "And then hopefully Cara knows the quietest route to the prison section."

We change shirts in the dark. It takes a few tries to figure out which ones belong to each of us, but eventually we're all wearing something appropriate. Zeke must have brought one of Shauna's shirts for me, because it actually fits fairly well. I leave it loose so it will hide the gun stuck in the waist of my pants, and we all leave our coats here. They'll attract unwanted attention inside. I just hope we take this route back, or it will be a very cold walk to the apartment.

Tobias gives Zeke the extra gun he brought, and Zeke hides it deftly before heading back into the building. A moment later, he signals that the coast is clear, and the rest of us follow quietly. By now, I know how long the hallways of Erudite are, but it still seems like Cara leads us on the longest possible route. I swear it takes us days to get there. Several times, we pass other people, but Zeke greets them boisterously, drawing their attention to him, and they barely glance at the rest of us. I begin to appreciate Zeke's talent for focusing people on him. It's so different from everything I learned in Abnegation, but it definitely has its place.

Finally, Cara stops and whispers, "We turn left at this corner, and we'll be in the prison section."

Tobias nods and starts forward, but Zeke catches him by the arm. "Are you nuts?" he whispers. "Everyone knows who you are. Let me go first, or they'll call for help before you even get there."

But Tobias shakes his head firmly. "You can't. If they know you helped us, you'll get in trouble too, and then what will Shauna do?" An uneasy look crosses Zeke's face, and it's clear he has no answer for that.

For a moment, we all look at each other, and then Uriah steps forward. "They don't know me as well, and I can handle a gun. It's got to be me." I can tell Zeke and Tobias both hate the idea, but it makes sense, and eventually they stand to the side to let him pass.

The rest of us stand rooted in place, listening to Uriah's footsteps move down the hallway. Zeke and Tobias both look tense, their hands fidgeting on their guns. I wrap my hand around mine, glad that I can touch it again now, but I don't draw it yet. If someone walks by, we already look way too suspicious.

Uriah's voice travels down the hall as he talks with someone, presumably the guards. I can't tell what he's saying, but I hear laughter. He must be working his charm. And then the laughter ends, and the voices are tense – but not loud. As a guess, he's got them a gunpoint and has warned them against yelling.

"Hey, give me a hand," he calls, and we're around the corner so fast it's almost funny.

The guards are kneeling on the floor, facing away from us, their guns undrawn at their sides. I walk around to face them, so they can see me clearly as I point my gun at them. Their eyes are wide as Uriah and Tobias take their weapons and bind their hands with the plastic ties we brought.

"Quietly now," Tobias warns them coldly, as he pulls the guard in front of him to his feet. Beside him, Uriah does the same, and we begin walking to Caleb's cell. My old cell. My hands get clammy at the thought, and I can feel my heart starting to race. I'm not here to die, I try to remind myself. I'm not I'm not I'm not. But it feels like I am.

As we round the last corner, I immediately know something is wrong. There are two more guards standing outside Caleb's cell, weapons already in their hands. And the guns are instantly trained on us. My heart leaps into my throat as I recognize one of them. Peter. For a moment, I'm a prisoner again, and he's leading me back to this cell, and my heart is pounding so hard it feels like it will burst out of my chest at any moment. How can he possibly be here again? How does he manage to worm his way into this position with everyone who's ever in charge?

Peter aims his gun squarely at Tobias' head and says calmly, "I'm pretty sure none of you want me to shoot _him_." The guard who is standing beside him starts and glances quickly at Peter.

"What are you doing?" he asks, and Peter smiles. It's the same smirk he wore when he taunted me on the rooftop at Dauntless, the same one on his face during our first fight, as he turned my entire body black and blue, the same one he's worn every time he's hurt me or insulted me. And suddenly I don't feel anything except hatred for him. I don't even feel fear. I point my gun directly at him.

"Oh, relax," he says dismissively, rolling his eyes at me. "I'm just returning a favor I owe your brother." And he speaks to the guard beside him. "If you think Evelyn wants her son dead, go ahead and do something dumb. Otherwise, I'd suggest you put your weapon down and open that door."

My jaw drops, and I stand there staring stupidly. I feel like I did when Peter saved my life, in almost this same location. Once again, I have absolutely no idea what to think about him. Beside me, I'm aware of Tobias standing rigidly, and I think he must be as confused as I am. But the guard sets his gun on the floor and fumbles with the door lock. And then we're pulling Caleb out wordlessly and locking the guards into the cell and moving swiftly back the way we came, with Peter following us, and all I can think is "not again." I don't want to travel with Peter. I don't want to be anywhere near him. I don't want to trust him or help him. But somehow, I'm here again with Peter and Caleb both beside me as we head into an uncertain future. _Not again._

**_Please take a few seconds to write a quick review. It doesn't have to be long, but reviews help so much in telling me if things are working okay. Every chapter is cumulative, and I want to catch it quickly if I get off track... Thanks!_**


	12. Chapter 12: Tobias - Leaving

_**Thank you for the increasing number of reviews! I really appreciate them, and they motivate me to post often.**_

**Chapter 12: Tobias – Leaving**

We follow Cara's lead, running when she does and walking as casually as possible the rest of the time. Whenever we pass people, we group ourselves to one side of the hallway, keeping the most recognizable of us blocked from view. Unfortunately, most of us are well known at this point, so it's not easy, but Zeke continues to draw people's attention as much as possible, and Peter, surprisingly, helps him.

I never know what to make of Peter, or how much to believe of what he says, but I doubt he's doing all this to help Caleb. It's more likely that he wants to leave the city and is using us as a convenient way to get there. The thought doesn't bother me – if it's true, at least we have a common goal for now, and Peter is most trustworthy when he wants something from us. Not that trustworthy is a term I'd ever use for him.

Caleb has the sense to stay quiet. I walk between him and Tris so she won't have to see him if she doesn't want to. She doesn't, of course, and she keeps her eyes focused ahead, watching for trouble. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Caleb sneaking furtive glances at her. He's probably hopeful that the rescue means she's forgiven him, as if being in these hallways isn't enough of a reminder why she shouldn't. Yesterday's conversation passes through my mind, and I consider breaking his leg to make it clear how we all feel. If I picked the spot carefully, he could still work his way across the rope…

As we near the ladder that leads to the roof, my thoughts shift, and it occurs to me how much we've endangered Zeke today. I pull him through a door on the left, and the others follow us into what turns out to be a lab. The equipment has been smashed, and the tables are pushed out of the neat lines I'm sure they were in a few days ago, but the sight still brings up unpleasant memories. I squash them down and turn to Zeke.

"Did that guard see you?" I demand.

Zeke shrugs. "I doubt it. He seemed pretty focused on you two," and his eyes flick between me and Tris. But his expression tells me he's lying, or at least that he's not sure he's right.

"You should come with us," I say firmly. "We're leaving the city, so we won't be able to help you if anything happens, and you could be in real danger if you stay here."

Zeke shakes his head, his expression far more serious than usual. "I can't, Four… not with Lynn gone. Shauna needs me, and I won't leave her." A weight sinks through my stomach. So many people died in the battle, and I don't even know about most of them. I hadn't realized Lynn was one. I think of how worried Shauna was about her little sister during initiation, and I understand how devastated she must be now.

For a moment, my eyes close in regret. I shouldn't have asked Zeke to help us today, wouldn't have if I'd known... but of course there was no real choice. I make a quick decision.

"Any chance there's paper and a pen in here?" I ask, glancing around the room.

Cara gives me a scathing look. "This is Erudite. _Of course_ there is." And she opens a drawer on the nearest lab bench and hands me both, as if they're as readily available as air in this place.

I sit down and begin writing. I'm not good at this, but it needs to be done, so I write quickly.

Uriah walks over to Zeke, and I try not to listen as they say goodbye. On the other side of the room, Caleb is asking questions that Peter is answering, probably because no one else will. The thought of _Peter_ being the friendliest person in the room distracts me for a moment, but I force myself to focus.

When I finish, I scan the letter briefly, fold it in thirds to hide its contents, and push it into Zeke's hands.

"If you get in trouble, give this to my mother. But only if you need to, because there's always a chance it'll make things worse." I give a half shrug. "We have a complicated relationship."

Zeke stares at me for a moment and then says, "Wow, I got a hall pass from the principal's son…" but he smiles as he says it. Then, he adds, "Should I read it?"

"_I_ certainly would. How else will you know when to use it?"

Zeke nods. "Thanks," he mutters. And then he gives me a hug. I've never been comfortable with contact from anyone except Tris, but it's not so bad with Zeke. We've been friends for a long time, after all, so I do my best to hug him back.

When I break away, he says, "You know, someone still owes me a kiss." He waggles his eyebrows at Tris suggestively, and even though I know he's joking, my hands form fists immediately. I really need to lighten up on the whole jealousy thing…

To my surprise, Cara speaks up in a huffy voice. "Oh, for god's sake – we're in a hurry you know." And she marches right up to Zeke and plants a kiss on his mouth. The entire group goes silent in shock.

She looks him straight in the eyes and says, "There, did that satisfy your need for male posturing?"

"Umm," he says blankly, his face going beet red. He looks at me helplessly. "I didn't think anyone would really do it." But I'm laughing too hard to say anything in response. I've never seen Zeke blush before, and suddenly all the pressures of the day dissolve into that single expression, and it seems like the funniest thing I've ever seen.

Behind me, Uriah says, "_My_ male posturing could use some satisfying," and then Zeke is howling too, tears of laughter actually leaking from his eyes.

Cara throws her hands in the air in disgust and stalks out of the room. I'm vaguely aware of the others following her, and I try to pull myself together. Tris passes me, a hand pressed to her mouth to stay quiet, her shoulders shaking with laughter, and I have to look away.

Uriah grabs my arm in one hand and Zeke's in the other and hauls us toward the door, but there's an enormous grin on his face. "You know," he says, "I'm never going to look at Cara the same way again…"

We finally regain control on the roof as the cold air blasts us. It feels like a storm is approaching, and the wind will make the already challenging passage that much harder. I think of Tris' slight build and decide I'd better cross first. I don't trust anyone else to pull her off the rope in these conditions.

The moon hasn't risen yet, but the streetlights below are on, as are lights in many of the windows, so the air isn't as dark as it was earlier. We use the extra light to get our coats and safety harnesses on, double-checking each other's straps to make sure they're secure. I'm glad Tris thought of these. It's not that I needed mine, really, but it reduced my fear a lot more than I expected. I don't know why, but being near a ledge always makes me feel like I'm going to jump off, as if I'll suddenly be unable to stop myself from leaping for no reason, and the harness took that thought away.

"Hey, I need one of those too," Peter says loudly, and I try to resist the urge to punch him.

"I'll toss mine back here when I'm done," I tell him. "Make sure you catch it." Peter looks like he wants to respond, but I suspect he's remembering our last conversation, and he wisely decides to shut his mouth for a change.

I crouch down, looping my harness over the rope and securing it well, checking it more times than necessary. Looking up at Zeke, I say, "Make sure theirs are secure before they go, okay?"

He nods. "You know I will, Four." And he rests a hand on my shoulder in farewell. I take a deep breath and swing myself onto the rope, wrapping my hands and knees tightly in place. _There is no height_, I tell myself firmly. _There is no fear._ My vision goes black around the edges, leaving only a view of the building ahead, and I move as quickly as I can toward it. An image of Tris climbing the Ferris wheel comes to mind, and I picture myself following her, one step, one hand at a time, her light form just above me, enticingly near. I really would follow her anywhere.

When I reach the end, Christina reaches out to help me. She seems to have used some extra rope to brace herself so she can pull better. It's a clever idea. I accept her assistance, fighting the instinct that says she isn't strong enough, isn't big enough, isn't trustworthy enough to keep me from falling, and she pulls me to safety.

For a moment, I stand on the roof, letting relief flood through my limbs. Then, I detach the safety harness and begin working it off my body. I don't throw it immediately, though – I won't do that until Tris is safely here. If Peter misses it or something, I don't want him trying to take Tris'.

She crosses next, probably anxious to get away from Caleb and Peter, and I pull her up easily. Christina grabs her other arm, but there's no need. I'd never let Tris fall.

The others arrive gradually, Christina's eyes widening as she sees Peter among them, but no one talks. By now, the alert may have sounded, and everyone's nerves are on edge.

When we're all safely on this side, Zeke surprises me by throwing the rope back to us. I was going to leave it behind, since I don't expect to need it anytime soon, but technically he's right to hide how we broke in. You never know when we might need to use this approach again. So, we cut the rope free from the stone pillar, gather the supplies, and hide them in a closet on our way out. And then we begin the slow, arduous trip out of the city, fighting the cold wind and the beginnings of snow.

For a long time, we walk in silence, flitting from building to building to stay out of sight. Gradually, the moon rises, and the snow thickens, creating a hazy glow to the air. It's impossible to see more than ten feet away, but that ten feet is surprisingly well lit.

Once we're clear of Erudite, Tris turns to Peter and Caleb and says bluntly, "We're leaving the city. It will be dangerous and definitely below your standard of living. If you prefer to hide somewhere in the city instead, you should go now." And she gestures to her right, toward the expanse of uncontrolled buildings. It's clear from her expression that she'd be thrilled if they left.

"I'm going with you," Peter answers immediately. "There's no way I want to be in this city when that army arrives." Well, at least his motives are clear now.

"What army?" Caleb asks, his voice concerned, but Tris turns away, clearly unwilling to talk to him more than necessary. I take her hand and start walking again, letting our backs form our answer. Behind us, I hear Cara whispering to Caleb, giving him the explanation we aren't willing to provide.

By the time we reach the meeting point, the snow is starting to accumulate. A figure I recognize as Amar emerges from the shelter of a decrepit building, holding up a hand in greeting. I nod stiffly in return. It's difficult to trust him again, though now that the initial shock has worn off, I have to admit I'm glad he's alive.

"I was starting to worry you'd changed your mind," he says when he's close enough for us to hear. He claps me on the shoulder, but I shrug away. It's still too familiar a gesture.

"We had something else to take care of first," Tris says, stepping forward as if to make sure he notices her. I smile a little at the idea that anyone could miss her. She may be small, but she radiates far too much energy for that.

Amar nods. "We haven't actually been introduced," he says casually, holding out a hand Dauntless style. "I'm Amar. I was Four's initiation instructor."

"I know," Tris answers matter-of-factly as she shakes his hand – badly, as the Abnegation always do. "And you know I'm Tris. It was clear the other night that you knew who we all were. I'm assuming Marcus told you?"

"You don't beat around the bush, do you?" Amar says with a smile, but he doesn't answer her question. Instead, he turns to Peter and Caleb and says, "You, I don't know."

Christina pipes up immediately. "This is Peter, the guy from our initiation class who tried to kill Tris. And this is Caleb, Tris' brother who also tried to kill her. For some reason beyond my comprehension, we just rescued them from Erudite."

Amar blinks a few times into the silence, and then Caleb says, "I didn't really…" but he stops when I look at him, obviously remembering the rules I gave him the other day.

Peter puts on his innocent face and says, "You forgot to mention that I also _saved_ Tris' life, quite recently as I recall. So, you don't get to hold that stunt in Dauntless over me anymore."

"_Stunt?_" I say in disbelief. I remember the look on Tris' face when she said that they'd touched her, and fury almost blinds me.

Amar steps forward hastily, placing a firm hand on my arm. It's the grip of an instructor preventing an imminent fight, and I force myself to breathe, to calm down.

"Peter has a warped definition of what counts as being even," Tris says with an anger that matches mine.

"Well," Amar says carefully, "you're going to have to put up with each other a little longer. We've been taking people to the camp in groups, and you're the only ones left, so we all need to go together as soon as George gets back. I trust you can keep your hands off each other that long?"

Silence answers him, but he apparently accepts that as assent, because his voice is level as he says, "Good."

After a long pause, Tris asks stiffly, "Are we crossing at the gate?"

Amar shakes his head, looking glad of the chance to change the subject. "No, there are some weak spots in the fence that we use to pass in and out quietly. No guards that way."

We nod and fall back into silence. After another minute, I wrap an arm around Tris and pull her away from the others to an area where we can wait privately. I can feel Amar's eyes following us curiously, but I've had it with people right now.

Under the eve of the building, Tris leans against me and says quietly, "I didn't expect to have to see _him_ again. It's bad enough dealing with Caleb, but the two of them together…"

"I know," I answer softly. "Trust me, I know." And I remember that Marcus will undoubtedly be there, too, completing the group of people I hate most in this world – out of the ones who are still alive, anyway.

I pull Tris closer and lean my face next to hers, our cheeks rubbing gently. "But you know what," I whisper, "we're more than a match for them." I can feel her smile against my skin.

"That's true," she whispers back. "They're spineless, whereas _you_ are a Dauntless legend. I like our odds." And she turns her face and kisses my cheek, her breath warm on my cold skin. An ache goes through me, waking up parts of me that are definitely not appropriate for this moment, and I pull back slightly, leaning against the wall and tucking her to my side. And together we wait.

Finally, a beat-up old SUV crunches toward us, deep black in the misty light. It rocks from side to side as it makes its way slowly over the uneven pavement, sliding a little in the snow. It looks less than appealing.

Despite that, we pile inside when it stops. Tris presses herself against the window in the middle row, and I sit next to her, trying to ignore Uriah shoved against my other side and Peter breathing behind me. Christina and Amar take the front seat, next to George, exchanging friendly smiles. They must have spent some time together during the testing last night.

The front seat occupants chatter cheerily during the ride, as George drives us down a series of increasingly damaged roads. Behind me, I hear soft talk between Caleb and Cara. Tris and I stay quiet, and Uriah somehow manages to nod off despite the bumpy ride. For the first time, I wonder what time they returned to the apartment last night, and how much sleep they got.

After a long while, George pulls into an old parking garage, and then he and Amar lead us on foot to the fence that surrounds the city. Amar slides a hidden section back, revealing an opening, and we make our way through it one by one.

This area doesn't look much different than what's inside the fence, consisting of crumbling buildings and jagged roads. We walk into the wind, the snow blowing into our eyes, until we reach a hidden spot with another vehicle – a van this time – and then we're riding again, enclosed in the windowless back, feeling every bump and having no idea where we're going. I've been in quite a few vehicles over the years, but this is the closest I've ever come to being sick from the motion.

The journey seems to take hours, but finally the van bumps to a stop, and the engine cuts out. George opens the door and says enthusiastically, "Welcome to the rebel camp!"

**_The details of the letter will come later - I know this is Tobias' perspective, and he knows what he wrote, but Evelyn needs some time to mull over it before the contents are revealed... In the meantime, please continue to review. It helps me to keep the story on track and reminds me to post soon. Thanks!_**


	13. Chapter 13: Tris - Evaluation

_**Author's Note: Thank you very much for the kind reviews. They make me happy and keep me writing!**_

**Chapter 13: Tris – Evaluation**

At first, I see nothing but snow. It must have picked up considerably during the ride, and for a moment, I'm glad we didn't have windows in the back of the van. The bumpy ride was nauseating enough as it was; it would have been worse if I'd realized George was driving blind.

The wind is harder now too, and bitterly cold. I shiver in my coat, and for the first time I look at Caleb with something like sympathy. We left Candor with enough coats for us, but no extras, so he's been in this weather with just his indoor clothes and a sweater. Peter has too, but despite everything, I find it harder to feel bad for him than for Caleb. I shouldn't let him get to me so much.

"Where, exactly, is this base?" Cara asks, voicing what we're all thinking.

"Underground," Amar answers as he joins us from the other side of the van. "We use an old bomb shelter that was built just before the war. It keeps us hidden and well stocked with food and water."

Tobias and I exchange a quick look and I can tell he doesn't know what a bomb shelter is either. I guess we'll find out soon enough.

Amar gestures for us to follow him and walks into the swirling snow. It's slippery, and we grab onto each other as we start sliding, but fortunately it's a short walk before we pass into an entrance of some sort, flanked by armed guards on both sides. George talks quietly with one of them as Amar leads us forward. I see the other guard eyeing us closely, her finger staying on the trigger of her gun, but her expression turns almost to recognition as she looks at me. She nods in acknowledgement, and I shiver slightly. As far as I know, I've never seen her before. Perhaps she sees Anna in my face.

I turn back to the sight in front of me and feel a sense of awe. Everything seems to be made of metal, with thick walls and another door separating us from the outside world. We walk through it and begin descending a long flight of dimly lit metal stairs. It feels like we go down forever, our feet echoing hollowly, and I begin to feel the weight of earth around us. A memory comes to mind from a textbook I read years ago, of bombs that could blow enormous holes in the ground and radiate the area around them. This shelter must have been designed to protect against weapons like that. I wonder how far down it goes?

At some point, George begins helping Christina on her injured side while Uriah carries her crutch. She's been walking much better today, but there are still limits to her endurance, and these endless stairs seem to cross that line. Briefly, I realize we'll have to climb back up all these when we leave. At least my years in Abnegation made me good at handling stairs.

Amar finally opens a door to the side and ushers us through it into a wide, deep room with a very low ceiling – it's less than 7 feet tall, judging by how close Tobias' head is when he stands at his full height. Metal tables and chairs are spaced close together throughout the room, blending in with the metal walls and ceiling and floor, reflecting oddly in a way that makes the room seem both larger and smaller. A handful of people are seated at the tables, playing a card game. Their clothing is a mix of colors and patterns I've never seen before. These aren't faction clothes.

George waves at the seated people, and a few of them wave back, looking at the rest of us with interest.

"This is the cafeteria and meeting room," Amar explains. "You'll be here a lot during the next few days, before we head out." He gestures to the others and adds, "Depending on what you end up doing, you may be working with some of these lovely people, but I'm not going to introduce everyone at once. I'll just start with my favorite."

He winks and gestures to a young woman with medium brown skin and long black hair that's braided down her back. She doesn't look much older than I am. "That's Pari. She was born in the capitol and found her way here four years ago. She'll be one of the guides helping us reach the Control Computer."

It's the first mention I've heard of how the government actually controls the population, and I'm tempted to ask questions. But as Pari raises a hand in greeting, George says, "Christina, Cara, and Uriah, you might as well wait here while we test the others."

Beside me, Tobias twitches, and his voice is tight as he says, "I thought you didn't need to test the Divergent."

Amar places a hand on his arm casually. Tobias flinches but doesn't pull away, tolerating Amar's touch the same way he does Zeke's. They must have been good friends before Amar's fake death.

"Relax, Four," he says with a little smile. "It's a different test for you two," and his eyes include me in the statement. "I guarantee there's no risk." Tobias looks at him skeptically for another moment but must accept the answer, because he nods and looks away.

And then we're heading toward a door on the other side of the room that I didn't notice before. It's the same metal as everything else in here, so it blends into the wall.

We walk down a narrow hallway with the same low ceiling, and I can almost feel the tension radiating from Tobias. _Right, claustrophobia._ But he keeps walking steadily, giving no sign of what I know to be one of his strongest fears, other than the rigidity of his limbs.

Amar and George give us a brief tour of the area we cover, but I notice they're careful with the information they provide. If I were a spy for the government they're trying to take down, I wouldn't have anything useful to say afterwards, and I suppose that's the point, particularly given how Caleb and Peter look intently at everything they see.

After a half dozen rooms, George opens a door to the left, and I see a waiting area where a number of people in faction clothing sit. I only catch a brief glance – too short to tell if there's anyone I recognize there, before George takes Caleb and Peter with him and shuts the door behind them. It seems strange, but I'm too relieved to be rid of the two of them to bother questioning why they're being taken to a different place.

Amar seems to read my mind, though, and he comments, "They need basic testing, and you two don't."

"Can you arrange for them to fail?" I ask, and Amar gives me a smile.

"Yet you rescued them?" he says curiously.

I sigh, not quite sure how to answer that. "It's complicated," I finally say. "Caleb is still my brother, and Peter helped us rescue him. But that doesn't mean I like either of them, and I certainly don't trust them."

Amar makes a non-committal sound, his eyes turning to Tobias.

"They're cowardly pond-scum," Tobias comments, backing me up, and Amar smiles again.

"Well, maybe they'll fail on their own, and it won't be an issue," he says lightly. But there's something else in his eyes, something that tells me he doesn't believe that will happen. I don't know why.

A few minutes later, we enter another waiting area. This one only has two people in it, but I recognize one of them: Robert, my friend from Abnegation for years, Susan's brother. It never occurred to me that he might be Divergent, but he transferred to Amity at the same time I left for Dauntless, and apparently that's why.

His eyes catch mine, and he rises, smiling at me. "Beatrice," he says softly. "I thought you'd be here." He moves as if to hug me, like he did the last time I saw him, way back when Tobias took us on a field trip to the fence during Dauntless training. But I step back awkwardly. Tobias is already tense from the low ceiling and small rooms. I don't want him to see me hugging someone else.

"Hi, Robert," I answer levelly. "I can't say I expected to see you." He stops in mid-step, obviously realizing I don't want to be touched, and I'm impressed once again with how good the Amity are at recognizing other people's signals. There's something to be said for kindness, even if it's not one of my strengths.

I turn to Tobias and ask, "Did you two meet in Amity? I forget."

Tobias addresses Robert stiffly. "No, but I remember seeing you at the fence during initiate training. I'm Four." I shouldn't be surprised he remembers that moment. At the time, I had no idea how he felt, but I've come to realize since that he was watching me closely even then. The thought makes me smile a little.

Robert turns to the other person who's waiting and says, "This is Lisa. She grew up in Erudite and switched to Candor."

Lisa looks to be in her early 20s, tall with very blond hair and a complexion that looks almost tan despite the time of year. Pretty. She looks at us with the appraising look the Candor use so often, but her voice is gentler than I've come to expect from them as she says, "Nice to meet you."

For the next few minutes, we make awkward small talk. Lisa is called in for her test first, and then Robert. They come back to the waiting room when they're done, so apparently there's no second exit, and a man emerges with Robert when he finishes. He nods a greeting to Amar, his eyes passing over us with mild interest, and then he escorts Robert and Lisa into the hallway.

A short time later, a woman looks out from the testing room and gestures to Tobias. He gives my hand a squeeze and walks away, his face set in an expressionless mask.

Amar and I sit in silence for a few minutes, and then he says quietly, "I always wondered what kind of person could break through Four's shell."

I raise my eyebrows. "Oh? And what kind of person am I?"

He cocks his head, smiling slightly. "Marcus says you're probably the most Divergent person in the city. Which would make you extremely strong-willed and self-aware, despite your age and size." He's watching me, as if curious if I'll be offended by that statement. Then, he continues, "And that makes sense. I can't imagine Four with someone weak, or someone who couldn't stand up to him."

For a second, I don't know how to respond. The words seem true, but I can't reconcile them with the source. Finally, I ask, "_Marcus_ said that?"

Amar shrugs. "He's an ass, but he's not wrong about everything. He's quite the expert on Divergence."

I don't know whether to laugh or be angry at Amar's attitude. Most people fall for Marcus' innocent act, so I can't blame them for working with him. It's harder to justify when you know what a monster he truly is, and Amar clearly does if he was Tobias' initiation instructor. But then I think of how I helped Marcus release Amanda Ritter's video, and I realize I can't condemn Amar for listening to Marcus despite what he's done.

I look away, muttering, "Yeah, I know. It's just hard to imagine him saying that, since he usually acts like I'm worthless."

Amar laughs mirthlessly. "He's done that to Four his entire life, but you should hear him talk now about how his son is the best person in the world for this mission." He shrugs again. "I wouldn't spend too much time trying to figure him out. I doubt it's possible."

We sit in silence for another minute, and then Amar says, "Four clearly cares a great deal about you. Is it mutual?"

I can't imagine a less comfortable subject than describing my feelings to someone I barely know, and I have to resist the urge to snap that it's none of his business. But something tells me that it's better if he knows.

"Yes," I answer simply, feeling heat rising in my cheeks.

He gives me an appraising look, something of sadness in his eyes. "I kind of figured," he says after a bit. He hesitates, and I think he's fighting with himself, before he blurts out, "You know this mission is crazy dangerous, right?"

I stare at him, not sure what to say. Of course I know it's dangerous. It's not like Anna tried to hide that, nor did Amanda Ritter in the video. I don't know why Amar feels the need to add to that.

"Yes," I finally say firmly. "But it's necessary, isn't it?"

He doesn't hesitate. His answer is emphatic as he says, "Absolutely. We wouldn't attempt it if there were any real choice."

"Do you need us – Tobias and me?"

His eyes close for a moment, and he sighs. "Yes," he says almost gently. "Desperately." He opens his eyes again, looking directly into mine and adds, "I wish we didn't. I wish we could use someone else."

After another moment, he recovers his composure a bit and says, "For what it's worth, we will do everything possible to protect you both. I promise you that." He manages a small smile and adds, "And not just because Four is my friend, but because getting you there is the whole point of the mission. So, I suppose in that sense, you're in less danger than the rest of us."

"You're coming, too?" I ask, and he nods.

"Yeah, I'm one of the most resistant 'oldies,'" he says with a grin that doesn't reach his eyes. "Each generation in the city has gotten stronger, so most of the group will be close to your age, but the rest of us who _can_ go, will."

I nod, wondering who else will be in that group, but at that moment Tobias emerges from the other room. He looks more relaxed than he did going in, so the test must not be bad. I feel a slight twinge, knowing Amar is probably right and that Tobias just tested well. But it's not like I had any doubt he would.

The woman pops her head out again and gestures to me with a friendly smile. "Your turn," she says.

As I walk past Tobias, he pauses to take my arm. I can tell he's highly aware of Amar's presence, but despite that, he gives me a light kiss. "You'll find it easy," he says softly, and then he crosses the room to sit by his friend as I enter the room beyond.

It reminds me of a simulation room, with a bank of computers and sensors surrounding a reclining chair. A straight-backed metal chair sits to the side, where the tester will likely sit, and there's a door on the other wall with a large, dark window next to it. I stare at the window, an odd prickling on the back of my neck, and suddenly I know without a doubt that there are people on the other side of it. It makes me feel like I'm on display.

"My name is Dianna," the woman says in the same cheery tone as before. "And you are?"

I suspect she already knows, but it doesn't seem worth an argument, so I introduce myself. "Tris. Beatrice Prior, that is."

"Prior, huh?" Her eyes light up as she looks at me, showing genuine surprise. It's comforting to think that not everyone here knows me already.

"Well, this should be interesting, then," she comments.

She gestures to the reclining chair and continues, "Have a seat." I hesitate, but Tobias' words relax me, and I sit down. Dianna begins connecting electrodes to me as she talks.

"This is pretty straight-forward. These wires connect you to the computer, and your goal is to relay information to that computer. It will then pass that information on to some people on the other side of that wall." She gestures to the dark window, and I feel relief that she isn't trying to hide their presence.

"The goal is to communicate a specific message to them. They can't see you or hear you, so if they get your message, it will mean you worked the computer correctly. This situation is very similar to what the Control Computer does, so if you're good at this, we know you're a good candidate to reprogram the population if we can get you there. Does that make sense?"

I nod and ask, "But how do I send information to the computer?"

She smiles kindly, an almost maternal smile. "Form the image in your mind as clearly as you can. Pictures and feelings work better than words, so try to use those. And then imagine pushing the message to the computer. I can't describe it better than that, but if you can do it, you'll find that makes sense when you try."

I smile. "Actually, it sounds like something we were talking about the other day. Was Uriah good at this?"

Dianna smiles too. "Yes, he was. Not as good as your friend, Four, but definitely much better than average. And they both seemed to find it fun. Maybe you will too. Ready to give it a try?"

I nod, curious now if I can work a computer without a serum or transmitter – just with wires and my thoughts.

"Okay, then, let's start with a simple message. Form a picture of a food of some kind and try to project it to the computer."

I should start simple, but I've never been good at following basic directions. What comes to mind is Dauntless cake, and I imagine it on Uriah's plate as it looked the last time I saw some. Rich and chocolaty, crumbling on the plate, a huge slice that Uriah reluctantly agreed to share. I picture every detail, imagining the taste in my mouth, and it's as if I hand that image to the computer. I don't think I could explain it any better than Dianna did, but somehow I know how to do it.

There's a buzz, and Dianna goes into the other room. When she emerges again a minute later, her expression is hard to read. If I were to take a guess, I'd said it was awe, but that seems unlikely over a piece of cake.

She clears her throat. "Well, clearly you have some aptitude for this. I think we may as well skip to something harder – a concept. See if you can tell the people in that room that there's a serum in their water and that they've been manipulated their whole lives. Fill in the details however you want, and we'll see how much they get."

"Okay," I say. I think of what Anna told us at the meeting, and I try to form that into an image, but something else keeps intruding. Cara's words, about how the rebels have been putting serum in the city's water. How they've been manipulating us through the factions all these years. And suddenly I'm angry at their hypocrisy. The picture forms clearly in my mind, and I project it with all the strength I can muster.

Dianna is gone much longer this time. When the door opens again, Anna walks through it, her expression serious and thoughtful.

"That's enough testing," she says quietly. "Let's go somewhere we can talk."

I nod, my eyes holding hers. "That's a good idea."

Dianna crosses the room, looking at me nervously – and almost reverently. She removes the electrodes carefully, her hands shaking a little. When she's done, Anna offers me her hand, and I let her pull me out of the chair.

Amar looks up in surprise as we enter the waiting room together, but a hint of a smile plays on Tobias' face, and I suspect he saw something like this coming.

"Let's go to my office," Anna says calmly. "All four of us. We have a lot to discuss."

_**Please let me know what you thought of this chapter. I truly appreciate your feedback, and it encourages me to post frequently. Thanks! **_


	14. Chapter 14: Tobias - Discussion

_**A/N: Sorry it took so long for this update. I had a hard time figuring out what to include here and what to keep for later. I'm still not entirely sure about parts of it, but I think it's better to post it and move onto the next chapter. In the meantime, thank you for the great reviews! They really encouraged me as I was struggling with this chapter. I'd also like to thank Pearly-Mist for consistently giving me good advice when I need it.**_

**Chapter 14: Tobias – Discussion**

Anna's office is as small as everything else in this place, with the ceiling I can barely stand under and the walls far too tight around me. I try to keep my eyes focused only on furniture and people, to distract from the claustrophobia, but it still feels like I'm in a coffin buried deep underground.

There are only three chairs in the room, and Amar gestures us toward them before taking up a spot along the wall and leaning comfortably into it. Amar has always had a way of looking at ease wherever he is.

For a long moment, we sit and look at each other, Anna behind the desk and me and Tris facing her. I'm reminded uncomfortably of being across from Jeanine in a small Abnegation office a thousand years ago, except that Anna doesn't look hostile. Her expression is much harder to read than that.

Finally, she laces her hands on the desk in front of her and says, "We've been waiting 60 years for someone to do that."

"You've contained your enthusiasm well," Tris states flatly, and I barely bite back my laugh in time.

Anna smiles a little, but ruefully. "It's a bit… complicated. Our odds of succeeding are suddenly much higher than we could have hoped, and I'm truly glad of that. But at the same time, if I could have picked anyone in the city for this task, it certainly wouldn't have been my granddaughter or Marcus' son."

I do laugh now. "Are you trying to claim you're all worried about us? Because I don't think you even met Tris until a few days ago, and Marcus has never cared about me in his life."

She's silent for a moment. There seems to be genuine sadness in her voice when she answers. "Very well, we'll start there." Her eyes turn to Tris. "There's a reason I never had the chance to know you…

I had a son who was three years older than your mother. He was Divergent too, before any of us realized how dangerous that was. He chose to remain in Dauntless to be with us, but he never made it through initiation. They claimed it was suicide, as they've claimed about so many others… My husband wouldn't let it go. He kept pushing and pushing for the truth, and then he turned up dead too."

She pauses, pushing back from the desk and running her hands up her arms as if seeking a comforting touch. "That's when I decided to go into leadership. I thought perhaps I could find out what really happened and hold someone accountable, or at least protect others. Especially my daughter.

Erudite was experimenting with the aptitude test at the time, and I was able to get an advance copy of it. I used it to pre-test Natalie, and when her results were obviously Divergent, I erased them and let her retry until she could pick any faction she wanted. It left a suspicious trail, though, and I knew she'd never be safe in Dauntless, so I told her to pick any other faction and make sure her test showed it as her aptitude. She chose Abnegation, and then I had to play the role of abandoned Dauntless leader, and she had to act like she had turned her back on me completely. Faction before blood, after all...

So, no, I never got to meet you or Caleb until now, or your father at all, and I barely saw Natalie after that. It was a steep price to pay, but at least she lived that extra time. She got to raise her children – and she didn't have to see them die like I did. I'd make the same choice again."

For a moment, it's so quiet I can hear the catch in Anna's throat as she breathes and can hear Tris swallowing hard. Finally, Tris asks, "Did she think you were dead? Like everyone else did?"

"No," Anna says emphatically, an expression of revulsion on her face. "I would _never_ have done that to her." But then her eyes flick to Amar, and I suspect she feels her words were too strong. She clears her throat and continues, "I suppose I had an advantage over the others in that regard. After a certain age, you're forced to leave Dauntless anyway, and no one looks closely at where you go. When I left the city, everyone just assumed I had joined the factionless. And that in turn allowed me to sneak back in easily whenever we needed."

Tris nods, clearly believing the explanation. I do too, for that matter. There would be no benefit to faking your death when it's so easy not to. It makes me wonder again why my mother really faked hers. She's given multiple explanations, but none of them ring true.

The silence stretches on, and I look back at Anna to find that she's looking at me, her mouth set in an unpleasant line. She sounds wary as she says, "I won't claim to know the extent of the bad feelings between you and Marcus. I've heard bits in the last year, between Jeanine's articles and what came out of Candor, but I've heard too many false rumors in my life to trust 3rd hand information. What I primarily know of you both is from my interaction with Marcus as a fellow leader – inside the city and here." She pauses and then adds, "For what it's worth, I've always heard him speak of you proudly."

The statement floors me. I know Marcus puts on a good act as a caring father; it's how he convinces everyone that I'm the liar and he's the innocent victim. But I've always seen him do it by presenting me as damaged, as someone with deep problems who needs extra guidance and patience. I can't even imagine him acting proud of me.

The silence stretches, but I have no words to respond, and Anna seems to be waiting. After a long time, Amar answers for me. "I'm going to go with Four on this one, speaking as the person who ran his simulations." He and Anna stare at each other, and her mouth turns down in a sour expression as she finally nods in agreement. My stomach twists at the reminder that Amar knows my deepest fears, but I try to tell myself it's better if Anna knows the truth. Someone in her position shouldn't trust Marcus.

We sit in awkward silence for another moment, and then Tris clears her throat and asks, "What exactly do you need us to do?"

Anna seems glad of the question. "What I told you at the group meeting is true," she begins, "but not complete. You're right that this group has been adding Suggestibility Serum to the city's water since the beginning. There were two goals in doing that. The first was to develop a large population of people who are resistant to the serum, in order to have an army who can fight if needed. The second was to come up with someone who can manipulate the Control Computer at a whole new level.

You see, the NUSA government relies on repetition to get their message across. They transmit the same type of information every day, and they reinforce it through schools, through televised broadcasts, through interviews with people in government, and through thousands of subtle messages that everyone is exposed to all the time.

It's not easy to counter that. Even if we managed to take over the government, the people would revolt against us, because they're brainwashed to think their current government is perfect. We'd have to send a new message to them every day for years, or even decades, before we could get them to think differently, and obviously we'd never get the chance to do that.

No, what we need is to send such a strong message that it changes what people think in one fell swoop. That's something no one has ever been able to do before, so the government doesn't have good defenses against it. But it's something my mother and the others who founded the city thought about a lot.

They recognized that we all listen to some people more than to others – to natural leaders and people with a very strong will. And the serum enhances those pathways through the brain, making us listen to those people even more. They also realized that some people can work the Control Computer better than others; it took some time for them to figure out what traits affected that, but once they got the hang of it, they knew it was theoretically possible to… breed… someone who was extraordinarily persuasive and who could work the Control Computer particularly well. They built the city around developing that combination. It took four generations, but here you are right when we need you most."

She stops, and it's clear from her expression that she doesn't expect us to react well. But I'm not particularly shocked. It was always obvious to me that the faction system limited our choices, including the choice of who to marry, and it's not like I've ever thought highly of people in general. Hearing that we were in a breeding program doesn't change much for me.

Tris, on the other hand, looks considerably angrier. "You manipulated everything about our lives for _generations,_ so tell me – just how are you any different from the people you're trying to stop?"

Anna sighs. "I understand your anger. I felt the same way when the rebels first recruited me. Keep in mind that I'd been in the city my entire life – which was a lot longer than yours so far – and it was all I knew, so of course I was furious at the deception. But I've seen what life is like out there, and there's a big difference.

They have _millions_ of people living in virtual slavery, deprived of basic choices and unable even to think freely. They live in poverty, serving the few thousand people who run everything. And there's almost no escape. As best we can tell, about 3% of the population is naturally resistant to the serum, but the vast majority of them are killed before they can make their way to one of our camps. We get a handful of people a year, and the rest die."

For a moment, she closes her eyes. "When you see the reality out there, you'll understand. It is far worse than the lies in Chicago – far worse. And we have just one more chance to stop it…"

"One… _more?_" I ask. "So, you have tried before?"

This time, Amar answers. "Of course. They didn't just sit around waiting for 60 years." He grins. "They worked with the other rebel groups to try anything and everything they could come up with, but with no success. So, now we're down to the last try. Personally, I find it kind of fitting that it's the one our founders planned all along."

I mull that for a moment and then ask, "Is the plan to get us to the government's Control Computer or to try to hack into the connection they use and broadcast a message from somewhere else?"

Amar answers again. "We'll have to get to their computer. We've tried the hacking route ad nauseam, with a stunning lack of success. The government is just too alert to that risk."

I nod. "Do you know where the computer is?"

"Not with 100% certainty," Anna says. "But we have information we feel is reliable that should get us close. We'll have to find it from there."

"Roughly where is it?" Tris asks.

Anna responds, "Over 700 miles away, in a huge city called Philadelphia. I'm not going to kid you – it will be a long, dangerous trip, and it will get more dangerous the closer we get. Particularly since the government will be expecting us to do something as they close in on Chicago."

Amar chips in, "But we don't think they're expecting this particular attack. It's too different from what we've done before. Plus, they've never seen anyone like you." He smiles. "And I doubt they've imagined the idea you could exist. Our thought is to use multiple groups to attack simultaneously in ways they expect, and then try to sneak you safely in between those."

I find myself nodding in agreement. It's a reasonable plan, or at least the start of one, and I'm tempted to say that. But then I remember agreeing to work with the factionless without talking to Tris privately first. She had legitimate objections, if I'd taken the time to listen…

"Okay," I state, "but right now, it's late, and I'm hungry. Give us some time to discuss it, and we'll talk more tomorrow."

"Of course," Anna answers immediately. "But please don't mention any details to the others. Most people think our distractions are the real plan and that getting to the Control Computer is a false lead we planted to get the Chicago residents on board."

Amar smiles again. "Judging by the reactions here, the government will never see this coming. Everyone here's been joking about how gullible you guys must be to believe something so outlandish."

The words make me wonder if maybe they're right, and we are that gullible. But no, the expression on Dianna's face was too clear when I manipulated the computer. She'd never seen anyone do what I did, and there's no doubt in my mind that Tris did even better. Besides, I have to admit I still trust Amar, as much as I trust anyone other than Tris. He's not lying about this.

"Can we talk with our friends?" Tris asks tightly. She doesn't like being told to keep secrets.

"The ones who are going with you will need some details," Anna answers. "But keep in mind that they're not as resistant as you are. If they know too much and they're captured…"

I don't let her finish the sentence. We all know where that thought leads. "Fair enough," I say firmly. "We'll exercise discretion."

"Good," Anna says. "Now, let's get you some food." Smiling a little, she adds, "I'm afraid we don't have hamburgers or Dauntless cake, but we can find something."

* * *

There's no one left in the cafeteria by the time we get there, so we sit together at a table and eat canned food. It's unappealing, but by now I'm starving, so I wolf it down anyway. This room seems to be the largest in the bomb shelter, but it still feels stifling. I can't let go of the feeling that the ceiling will collapse on us at any moment.

Amar keeps watching me, and I know he realizes how much the tight space bothers me. I hate having people know my fears, but I try to remind myself that I know Tris' and Christina's and Uriah's the same way Amar knows mine. It's the nature of being a Dauntless instructor.

After we finish eating, Amar walks us down a hallway. He places a hand on my shoulder and says quietly, "All the rooms are small, but you can pick between the dorm and a private room. The dorm is bigger but filled with bunk beds, so there's not much visible space there."

For a second, I close my eyes, trying to will away the sense of everything pressing into me. My honest choice would be to get out of this bomb shelter entirely, as fast as possible, but that's not an option. And if I have to choose between being crammed in a room with other people – possibly Peter and Caleb among them – or being alone with Tris, that's an easy choice.

"We'll take the private room," I say. Amar nods and leads us further up the hallway.

I almost regret the decision when we walk into the room. It essentially consists of a bed, with inches of walking room around it in a space that's probably only 5 feet by 7. I try not to shiver.

It's all I can do to kick my shoes off and sit on the end of the bed. I face toward the longest direction, trying to fool myself into thinking the room is bigger than it is, but of course it doesn't work.

Tris climbs onto the bed, sitting cross-legged in front of me, and takes my hand in hers. "You're not going to get any sleep at all, are you?" she asks.

"I don't see how." I can hear the tension in my voice.

She thinks about that and then speaks in the teasing voice she uses sometimes. "It sure seems like it should be easier to avoid your fears than this, given how few of them you have."

A strangled laugh comes out of me. "It has been quite the day, hasn't it? Climbing between buildings and talking about Marcus while planning a mission that endangers you… while trapped inside a tiny space… I actually tried to wake myself up earlier, in case this was really all a simulation."

She smiles. "Didn't work, huh?"

I gesture at the walls with my free hand. "Apparently, I've moved into my fear landscape." But my eyes focus on her, and I add, "At least you're here. So, how bad can it be?"

"Well," she says softly, "if we really were in your fear landscape, I'd tell you to breathe with me." She takes the hand she's holding and presses it over her heart, adding, "and to feel my heartbeat." Her pulse travels through my palm, and my own matches it. I remember back to the day I showed her my fear landscape, before it changed – before she was in it. I try to push away other thoughts and focus on that day, on how it felt to wrap my arms around her and hold her close in such a forbidden way.

"That was the first time I realized you liked me," I say, running a strand of her hair between my fingers and looking into those eyes I love so much. "When your heart was racing and you said it had nothing to do with the box." The beginning of a smile tugs at my mouth.

"Yes, well, I think I enjoyed that moment a lot more than you did," she says with a little laugh.

"I was terrified," I admit, "and not just because of the box. But part of me definitely enjoyed it too." My fingers caress her cheek and begin tracing her jawline gently, trailing down her neck. "That's the only time I ever overcame that obstacle by feeling happy." I remember the joy I felt when I knew she was lying about why her heart was racing, when I suddenly felt certain that she liked me. As it did that day, the feeling makes the walls start to draw apart.

I lean forward and kiss her slowly. "This is what I really wanted to do then," I murmur, my lips still on hers. "Actually, for a long time before that."

"I would have been fine with that," she laughs.

"Really? So, when I stood behind you on the Ferris wheel, it would have been okay to do this?" And I kiss the corner of her jaw, and along her ear, and down her neck. She sighs with pleasure.

My fingers slide down her spine and splay across her lower back as I kiss her again, pressing her gently back onto the bed. "And in the training room, when I told you to keep tension here, I could have done this?" I slip my other hand under her shirt, pressing it to her bare stomach. Her breath catches.

I've almost forgotten the walls now. "Because I liked you for a _very_ long time, you know," I whisper as I pull her shirt up and work it off her, my lips finding each of the birds tattooed on her collarbone. I don't know how she always manages to smell so incredible.

Her voice is husky as she says, "I liked you for a long time, too. From the beginning, really. I just… assumed you wouldn't be interested."

The words bother me, as it always bothers me when she doubts herself. I pull back enough to look into her eyes again and say, "I wish you could see yourself more accurately. If you saw through my eyes, you'd know how amazing you are." I kiss her on the forehead and the tip of her nose and her lips. "Smart, and brave, and gorgeous, and… perfect."

She laughs. "You're the only one who sees me that way."

"I most definitely am not. I've seen the way other people look at you…" I almost start naming them, but then I realize that most of them are dead, and it seems better not to go there. Instead, I add, "But I love that you only look back at _me_ that way." Her smile deepens.

I begin working my way back down her neck, letting my fingers wander where they will. "You know, there's a reason I stare at you so much. And why I've never been able to keep my hands off you." I kiss right between her breasts. "And I guarantee you that no one else makes me feel this way." My breathing is harder now and I'm not even aware of the walls anymore. I'm thinking about last night and how it felt to be with Tris like that.

"Well, that's good," she murmurs. "Because you're the _only_ one I want this way."

My fingers find the button on her pants at the same time her hands slide under my shirt, and then we're undressing each other slowly, savoring every movement of skin against skin. I wonder how it will compare with the last time, filled with closeness and indescribable new sensations but also with some pain and awkwardness. But as it turns out, it's not very much like that.

It's far better.

_**A/N: So, did the chapter work? It had a lot of exposition, but I couldn't seem to avoid that, and I'm hoping it came out okay. I'd really appreciate feedback on that... Thanks!**_


	15. Chapter 15: Tris - New Perspective

_**A/N: Sorry it took so long to post this. Work has been VERY busy lately. Anyway, thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter! A few guests asked me questions and wanted me to email responses to them, but this site actually deletes email addresses and websites automatically, so I didn't get your contact information. To work around that, I posted answers on my profile page; if you asked me something, please check there for the response (just click the "Windchimed" link near the top of the page to get there).**_

**Chapter 15: Tris – New Perspective**

When I wake up, I'm cocooned between Tobias' body and arm. He feels warm and good, and it would be easy to stay here all day. I prop myself up just enough to see his face, watching him sleep. He looks deeply relaxed – younger and far less stern than he seems when he's awake. I don't know if it's his strength or the weight of his worries that makes him look older during the day.

His breathing is even, his muscles expanding and contracting where I'm pressed against his chest. I wasn't sure he'd be able to fall asleep in this place, with his claustrophobia, but he finally relaxed after, well, _that_. The thought makes me smile, though part of me still feels nervous being this close to him, like we're breaking some kind of rule and will get in trouble for it. I guess it's my Abnegation instincts, but it's kind of funny that after all the real trouble I've been in lately, _this_ should still worry me.

He moves a little, beginning to wake up, and I freeze, trying to encourage him to sleep longer. I know we have plenty to do today, but he'll face it better if he's well-rested. He must have slept himself out, though, because he shifts again and opens his eyes. For a second, they dart around uncertainly, and then they settle on me, and he smiles. His eyes are deep blue, almost black in the low light, and I think of the first time I looked into them. I smile too.

"Good morning," he murmurs, his voice low. He tightens his arm around me as he leans over and brushes his lips along mine.

"Same to you," I mutter. I'm beginning to really wake up now, and I yawn as I stretch the entire length of my body, short as it is. When I open my eyes again, Tobias is staring at me, watching my stretched body with a look I might not have liked a few weeks ago. But now… it's nice to know I affect him that way, though perhaps not first thing in the morning.

I clear my throat hastily and ask, "So, what do you suppose we need to do today?"

He grins. "I'm pretty sure whatever it is can wait." He leans over me again, but I laugh and push him back onto his side of the bed. It's much too early for that.

"Aren't we supposed to be preparing for our big, dangerous mission? The latest one, that is."

He looks at me longingly for another moment and then sighs. "Yeah, there's that." He props the pillows against the wall and sits up, and I do too, though I pull the sheet with me. It feels too revealing to sit without it.

"I guess the biggest question is, do you think they're telling us the truth?" I ask.

He purses his lips thoughtfully. "They definitely believe what they're saying, and it's consistent with the video, and with what Cara suspected, and with how Jeanine manipulated the city… So, yeah, it seems likely." He gives a half smile and adds, "But I've been wrong before, so to me the real question is, what do you think?"

I pull my knees up to my chest, wrapping my arms around them. "My instincts say to trust them, and I usually go with my instincts. But what I keep wondering is… how much do they actually know? I mean, they both lived in the city most of their lives, and they haven't been here all that long. Someone else must have been running this place before that, and maybe still is – and we don't know anything about whoever that is."

Tobias nods. "There are also the other rebel groups they mentioned. We know nothing about them, except that they currently have a common goal. If we can pull this off, there's no way of knowing what they'll do afterwards."

I bite my lip as I think about that. It's a huge unknown. Finally, I ask, "So, what do we do?"

"I think…" he responds slowly, "that we're not going to know everything in advance, no matter how many questions we ask. We're going to have to figure things out as we go, and that means we need to be smarter this time than we have been." I look at him questioningly, and he sits forward, picking his words carefully as he continues.

"When we planned the attack on Erudite, the best minds among the Dauntless and factionless spent a week figuring it out. And it worked. But we lost so many people… and the reality is that we ended up in Jeanine's lab at the same time you did." His eyes turn to me again. "How long did it take you to come up with your plan?"

I stiffen, not sure I like where he's going with this. My voice is hesitant when I say, "We formed a rough plan the night before and finalized it when we got there."

He nods. "So, you had much less time than we did, and fewer people, and certainly fewer guns. But you succeeded, and you only lost one person while our toll was hundreds." He rubs a hand along the back of his neck. "My point is that if we had worked together from the beginning, we could have used your idea and sent a special task force after Jeanine. Maybe we could have stopped her without so many deaths. We have to be smart enough to do that kind of thing this time."

He falls silent, and I know I should reply, but my voice seems to have disappeared. I thought I was doing the right thing when I turned myself in to Jeanine. And it probably did save lives, but not nearly as many as died in the invasion. I never thought to compare those numbers before, but now I can't help it. Would Lynn still be alive if I had stayed at Dauntless and helped plan the attack? If Tobias and I had worked together and gotten past our bickering and focused all our attention on that goal?

I look at Tobias, unsure what to say or even think. All this time, I've been trying to use Abnegation's form of selflessness as my guide, but maybe there's more to it than that. Maybe true selflessness involves using every ability we have to help others, not just sacrificing ourselves at the first opportunity.

Tobias must know how difficult this topic is, because he touches my face gently and holds my gaze. His voice is low as he says, "We both made mistakes. I should have shared everything I was doing with you. I'm sorry I didn't. And you… need to realize that you _are_ important. I don't care how many rebels have come up with plans over the years, and I don't care how much work they've put into the current plan. I want _you_ to look at everything they've done, and what they haven't, and come up with your own ideas. Will you do that?"

I close my eyes, because I know what he's really saying. That I need to stay alive for this mission to succeed, even if that means letting other people die for me, like my parents did. And I don't know if I can let that happen again. Especially if one of those people is Tobias.

When I open my eyes, he's still watching me, waiting for an answer. I give him the only honest one I can. "I'll try."

* * *

When we walk into the cafeteria, I'm overwhelmed for a moment by how full it is. We finally spot Christina and make our way to the seats she must have saved for us, since they're the only two empty chairs in the room.

"Finally!" Christina says when she sees me. "Where have you been?"

For a moment, her Candor eyes drill into me, and I'm sure she knows what Tobias and I were up to last night. I feel the heat rising in my cheeks, but Tobias's face stays placid as he answers, "Special training. They kept us late and had us sleep in a different area so we wouldn't disturb you."

"Oh," Christina says in a deflated tone, and it's clear the answer is much more mundane than she expected. Apparently, she hasn't learned to read Tobias' tells yet.

I help myself to a bowl of cereal from what's available on the table. As with last night's dinner, it's unexciting, particularly since the milk has a strange powdery texture, but I eat anyway.

"Well, you missed the first aid class last night," Christina says. "It was pretty good."

Uriah nods with mock sincerity. "I was the dummy, and I must say I learned how to hold still while being bandaged very well indeed."

"Yeah, you make a great dummy," Christina says with a snort.

"None better," he proclaims proudly, and I find myself grinning too. Uriah's humor is always infectious.

Cara, on the other hand, sounds a bit huffy as she says, "It was actually a very informative session. Their doctor is excellent. They pulled her out of Erudite before the war, along with a quantity of medical supplies. So, in some ways, they're better off here than in Erudite right now."

"That's good," I mutter, feeling my smile slip away. The words remind me of Lynn dying as I held her hand.

But Christina's voice is bright as she says, "Yeah, the doc did wonders with my leg. I haven't even used my crutch today, and they think I'll be able to go with you guys after all."

"Oh," I say blankly. "Does that mean they didn't get a lot of other volunteers?"

She gives me a _look_ and says, "You don't have to sound so disappointed. I know I'm not _Divergent_ and all, but I'm still pretty useful."

I wince and say quickly, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. I just meant…" but my voice trails off because I don't know how to finish that sentence. I still don't know if I want her to come with us, particularly in light of the conversation Tobias and I just had. I don't want her to die for me.

Finally, I finish lamely, "I was just wondering if we got enough volunteers to… you know… stand a chance at surviving this."

"Not as many as they'd have preferred," Cara answers. "Most of the volunteers want to defend the city, but they got enough to move ahead with our part. A lot of them aren't Divergent, but George finally admitted that everyone inside the city is more resistant than everyone outside it, so they can make do with us."

I'm about to ask when she talked with George, since the last time I saw him he was taking Caleb and Peter to be tested. I'm curious what their results were, but before I can say anything, Amar walks to the center of the room and calls loudly over everyone's conversations, "Yo, listen up!"

The voices fall silent, and he continues. "There's still too much snow to go outside, so we'll all have to share the training room today. Those of you who are here now get to go first, and we'll trade out this afternoon." He starts toward the stairway, gesturing broadly for us to follow, and we all abandon the remainder of our breakfast to scurry after him.

We don't go down too many flights this time – not nearly as many as yesterday – but it's enough to make me wonder how big this place is. When we walk through the doorway, I feel like I get my answer.

The room we enter can only be described as Dauntless heaven. It's massive, with several fighting mats, racks of weaponry, and a glassed off area that looks like it contains shooting ranges. Even the ceiling is higher here, and I can see Tobias' step lighten the moment he walks inside.

For a long moment, we gather inside the entrance, staring around us in silence. There's a lot to take in. Finally, Christina says in an awed voice, "Where did you get all this?

"More practically, how did you get it in here?" Cara asks.

George laughs. "We can't take credit for it. The bomb shelter was built by military forces – to be honest, I'm not sure from which side. Anyway, they intended it to be somewhere they could ride out a long-term attack, or radiation, or chemical weapons, or what have you." He gestures around and adds, "I guess they wanted to be well-armed for whenever they emerged."

Amar touches George's elbow as he steps up next to him, commenting, "They abandoned it when all the bombing caused the Great Lakes to flood. I gather it really was underwater for a while, but when the rebels diverted water to Chicago for irrigation, this area dried up a bit, and we were able to gain access. It's worked well for us."

Tori's voice emerges from the group. "Do we get to use those?" she asks as she points to the incredible array of weapons along the wall.

George gives her a smile she doesn't return. "Yes, indeed. The majority of those will be used to defend the city." He exchanges a look with Amar.

"Let's form two groups," Amar suggests. Then, in a louder voice, he gestures to the half of the group that includes Tori and says, "All of you are with George. You'll focus on fighting techniques first while the rest of you learn the weapons with me. In two hours, we'll switch." He turns back to George and adds in a softer voice, "Go through joint locks and pressure points – at least the basic ones."

"We already know how to fight," a man I don't recognize says in annoyance. "We're Dauntless."

"So was I," Amar says calmly, "and trust me, there's still plenty to learn. Give it two hours, and then you'll get your chance with the guns."

The group mutters, but the designated half follows George to the largest of the mats while Amar leads the rest of us toward the weapons. As we approach, I notice that Tobias' face is filled with a type of Dauntless joy I rarely see in him. It reminds me of how he looked during Capture the Flag, once we were away from Eric.

"You should have shown us this room first," he says to Amar. "It would have been a much easier sell."

"No kidding," Christina mutters, reaching for a small oval device hanging from a hook on the wall.

"Whoa, careful with that," Amar says quickly, stopping her hand. "The guns aren't loaded, but that's a grenade – a kind of bomb – and it's easy to set off. Let me show you how it works."

We spend the next two hours learning how to handle the various weapons, and more enjoyably, practicing with them. It turns out the shielded part of the room contains eight full-sized shooting ranges, so we each spend almost as much time shooting as waiting.

In between turns, I watch the people across the room. George is clearly working hard to win Tori over, and I smile when he eventually coaxes a laugh out of her. It makes me feel there's hope for them yet. On the other hand, it also makes me think of Caleb, and I turn to watch him shooting in the range at the other end of the gallery. It's still difficult to look at him without feeling like I'm in the execution room again, watching Jeanine step forward to kill me. I wonder if I'll ever lose that association.

Eventually, Amar gathers us back together, and we swap places with the other group. My eyes meet Tori's as we walk past each other. Her expression is serious, but she nods a greeting, and I smile a little in return. Out of everyone the war has taken away from me, Tori is one of the people I miss the most.

Amar forms us into a large circle on the mat and gives us a long, evaluating look. Then, he says, "Partner up. Former Dauntless with those from other factions. We're going to learn some techniques here, but I should start by saying our goal is for everyone to learn. We're all on the same side, so this isn't some Dauntless duel to unconsciousness." At the words, I see Tobias smile, and I do too. It's nice to know that Eric's style isn't welcome here.

We start with a few basic techniques. They're mostly for the non-Dauntless among us, but I suspect Amar also wants to see how well the rest of us learned them. At first, I help a woman I don't know, who acts like she's probably from Candor. She concentrates hard on what I show her, but her movements are clumsy as she tries to imitate them.

After a bit, Amar has us switch partners so everyone can practice on people of different sizes and body types. Since there are more Dauntless than others, I find myself facing Uriah next. It's actually a relief – I was too worried about the unknown woman's pain tolerance to really practice with her, but I'm not afraid of that with Uriah. I step forward confidently – and drop him to the floor almost immediately. He gets up quickly, brushing himself off.

"Oh, good, we're not taking it easy on each other," he says with a smile. He moves at me, but I block and bring my knee into his thigh before he can back away. He winces and pauses, clearly not sure what to do against an opponent so much smaller than he is. As he's trying to decide, I move past him fast, catching him with my elbow on the way, and then grab his arm and pull him off balance. He drops to the floor again, looking a little embarrassed this time.

To the side, I see Amar winking at Tobias. "I see you taught them well," he comments. The others probably can't tell, but I can see how Tobias stands a little straighter at the compliment. Amar's opinion is clearly important to him.

"Okay," Amar says to the group, "that's enough basics for now. Those of you who need it can practice more later," and he lifts an eyebrow at Uriah, who definitely looks embarrassed now. "In the meantime, I want to show you some joint locks."

He gestures to Tobias to join him and begins explaining to the group, "The goal of joint locks is to force your opponent to move the way you want them to. For instance, if someone punches at you, you can use the standard blocks and counter strikes, or you can do something like this." And as Tobias obediently demonstrates a punch to the head, Amar catches his hand, pulls it to him as he steps to the side, and flexes his wrist just a little. Tobias drops to the floor instantly.

"The key is to lock the joint and turn it in a direction it doesn't want to go. At that point, your opponent has exactly two choices: move where you want them to, or break something." He grins. "In my experience, they _always_ move."

He lets Tobias back up and shows us the move more slowly, so we can see how he positions Tobias' hand and wrist and how he presses down to make him drop. Even done slowly, the move is clearly effective.

I struggle as we practice, but at least I'm not the only one. Even most of the older Dauntless don't seem to be familiar with these techniques. But gradually I get the hang of it, and as he shows us different locks, I find a few favorites. To my surprise, it also turns out to be difficult for the others to use most of the locks on me. Apparently, the height difference works to my advantage. After half an hour, I'm consistently dropping my opponents within seconds while they almost never get me. It's particularly satisfying to take Peter to his knees after the way he beat me in our first fight.

We switch again, and I find myself facing Caleb for the first time today. My hands go clammy at the sight, and I almost ask to switch again. Then, he gives me a nervous smile, and suddenly I don't want to avoid him anymore. _He's_ the one who should avoid _me_, since he's the one who was wrong, so I don't move away. Instead, I glare fiercely at him, fixing all the anger and hatred and betrayal I feel into my expression as I bounce up and down on the balls of my feet, waiting for Amar to give us the signal to begin. Caleb's face goes pale as he watches me, and he quails when I move at him. And then he's on the floor, howling in pain as I stand over him with his wrist twisted between my hands and my foot on his spine.

I'm vaguely aware of voices around me and hands grabbing at me, but I hold my grip until Amar twists my hands free and Tobias lifts me bodily away from Caleb. He sets me down and grabs my shoulders, his face right in mine. "We're not fighting Eric-style today," he reminds me coldly. "Or ever again as far as I'm concerned. Control yourself." I twist away from him angrily, but I know he's right. My parents would tell me that cruelty is wrong, even when it doesn't feel like it. Maybe especially when it doesn't.

I take a couple of calming breaths and then mutter, "Sorry" to Tobias. He nods and moves back to his current partner. As I turn back to the others, I see Amar helping Caleb to his feet and making sure he's okay. But the locks are designed to control, not disable, and I did the movements right – even if more enthusiastically than necessary – so there's no serious damage. After a moment, Caleb pulls himself together and is able to continue. I don't meet his eyes.

Amar looks at me for a second and then addresses the group. "Okay, good lesson here…. We all get angry sometimes. If you start to lose control, go take a walk, or use the punching bags, or shoot the targets. It'll help get the adrenaline out, and you might even improve your skills while you're at it." His eyes pass over the others, resting briefly on Tobias, and I suspect that Tobias must have needed that advice at some point. It's not hard to imagine why, given his reasons for leaving Abnegation. I wonder if that's how he got so good at all those Dauntless skills.

"All right," Amar continues after another moment. "Gather back around. I'd like to show you some pressure points before we break for lunch." He glances around the group and then gestures to Peter to join him this time.

"As you saw, joint locks control the way your opponent moves. Pressure points are different. They give you a way to maximize the effect of a strike. If you hit here…" and he demonstrates a controlled punch to Peter's side – "it will hurt, but if you use exactly the same blow here…" and he repeats the strike to an area further under the arm – "it will disable him."

His eyes roam the group as he continues. "There are numerous pressure points around the body. Some of them will knock a person out, while others break bones, inflict massive pain, or knock the wind out of someone very easily. If you're not that strong, or that experienced at fighting, pressure points can give you a way of being effective despite that. So, let's go over some of them."

He demonstrates several points on the neck and arms, having us practice after each, but the technique only works if you get exactly the right spot, and that's tricky. Whenever I feel like I've mastered one, we switch partners, and I have to work to find the same spot on that person. It feels like I'll never get the hang of this. It's particularly frustrating to watch Amar hit perfectly every time, against every person.

"How long do you think it takes to get that good?" I ask Christina, who's currently partnered with me.

She looks at Tobias for a moment, watching his technique, and then says, "Years, obviously. Four's a lot better at it than we are, but he's nowhere near that good." I bite my lip as I watch Tobias too. I have to admit she's right.

When Amar moves on to pressure points on the torso, I pretty much give up. It's hard enough finding the right spot when I can see it, but when it's buried under clothing, it's hopeless. But Amar must realize that, because after a few minutes of utter failure around the room, he decides on a different approach.

"Guys, shirts off," he says firmly as he removes his own shirt. The words startle me, and I can feel my face going red as my eyes have no idea where to look. I've only ever seen Tobias without a shirt.

"Come on," he insists. Then, looking at one of the Dauntless women, he adds, "Just the guys. You won't distract _me_ that way, but I can't imagine that being helpful to anyone else here." My gaze turns automatically to the woman in time to see her putting her shirt back on, and I can feel the blush flaming on my cheeks.

I look at Tobias, wanting to know if he saw her, but he's staring intently at me, and suddenly I remember that he doesn't like showing himself to others. But I can also tell from his expression that he's not willing to disobey a direct order from his instructor. I don't know how to help him, so I do the only thing I can think of and just watch him, letting him focus on me. Maybe if he can shut out the rest of the room and feel like he's just undressing for me, it will be easier. And he does, his face twisting in the process, but then he stands there as only I've seen him, his eyes still on me.

Christina nudges me with her elbow and whispers, "Nice," but I refuse to look away from Tobias. I feel like we're getting each other through this.

Amar's voice is clipped as he asks, "Peter, are you under the opinion that you're extra special or something? That the rules don't apply to you?" I finally shift my gaze enough to see that Peter is standing there fully clothed, his arms crossed defiantly over his chest.

"Forget it," Peter says coldly. "There's no way I'm stripping for you."

Amar's face is far sterner than I've ever seen it as he snaps, "You may have missed this in Dauntless, but respect is a key part of the martial arts. You're a student, and I'm your instructor. If you want the privilege of continuing in this room, or on any mission associated with this group, you will do as you're told."

For a very long time, their eyes lock, and I begin to see where Tobias learned his death glare. Finally, Peter looks away, fury written all over his face as he says, "Have it your way." He pulls his shirt off and turns unexpectedly to me, throwing it at me the way I threw my overshirt at him so long ago on the Dauntless roof. I catch it automatically and then drop it behind me, having no interest in holding something of his.

I don't look back immediately, but when Christina gives a small gasp beside me, I can't help it. My eyes turn to Peter, and I shiver at the sight of that much exposed skin – and at what's on it. His torso is covered with markings of some sort, but not in a pattern I recognize. The marks are rough and jagged, different from any tattoo I've ever seen. They're more like… scars. And as I think that, I realize that of course that's what they are. There are several long, jagged lines that were clearly made by a knife, including a vicious one that must have gouged out flesh along with skin. Intermixed with those are more than a dozen small, round scars of a uniform size and darkness. It takes me a moment to figure out where I've seen that shape before, and a coldness goes through me when I do. It's the shape a cigarette leaves when it's snuffed out against something. It never occurred to me before, but Peter has clearly been abused – must have been for years.

My eyes find Tobias again, and for a second I think he must have stopped breathing. He stands there with his face expressionless and his entire body stiff, hiding behind the mask he's presented to the world his whole life.

No one says anything at first, but then Amar resumes talking as if nothing is unusual. "The pressure point you're aiming for is here," and he demonstrates on himself before walking to Uriah and showing the same point on him. He walks to each of the males in turn, showing us the same spot on each so we can begin to recognize it. The entire experience is acutely uncomfortable, but I have to admit it does help me find the right point. In fact, by the time he's done, I feel like it's permanently imprinted on my brain.

This time, we practice in utter silence, but for the first time, I make progress. By the time we break for lunch, I'm consistently hitting four different pressure points against partners of all sizes, regardless of whether or not they're wearing shirts. Still, it's a relief when the guys are able to put their clothing back on. I never did get myself to look at Uriah or Caleb.

As we begin leaving the room, Tobias walks up to me. His voice is strained as he says, "I'll see you up there. I'm going to shoot for a while." I remember Amar's advice earlier and realize Tobias needs this, so I nod and give him a quick kiss. He returns it brusquely before walking away.

I'm not really surprised when he heads toward Peter. "I get the machine gun first," he says simply, walking past him without pausing.

Peter looks after him for a few seconds and then shrugs. "Whatever," he mutters, but he follows.

As I turn back to Christina, I hear Amar telling her quietly, "I didn't know."

"I didn't, either," she comments. "I knew he was adopted, but he came from among the factionless, so I just assumed it was for the usual reasons." At the blank look on my face, she adds, "You know, so he could go to school and be in a faction and have a chance at a better life… The Candor adopt a lot of factionless kids."

I feel a twinge as I think about that. It's yet another way the factions failed us, and I never even noticed, never thought about what happened to children born factionless. I try to imagine what it would be like to choose between raising my children or trying to give them a better life – one without me. And then a worse thought occurs to me. Tobias wondered once why his mother didn't take him with her when she left Abnegation. Was that why? Did she have to choose between taking care of him as a child or giving him a future as an adult? She wouldn't even have had the choice of giving him up for adoption – she never could have gotten away with that with Marcus' son... For the first time, I begin to understand Evelyn's perspective, and I think maybe I judged her too harshly.

"Come on," Christina says, taking my arm. "Maybe there will be something good for lunch."

Uriah laughs almost bitterly. It's an odd sound coming from him. "Yeah," he says, "like that's gonna happen." He sighs. "Sometimes, I really miss Dauntless."

But right now, I'm not so sure I do. The factions have left too many of us scarred – on the outside like Peter, or the inside like Tobias, or through fractured relationships like me and Caleb. For the first time, I think I agree with Tobias and Evelyn that we need to change things. Assuming we can save the city long enough to give it that chance.

_**A/N: As usual, I REALLY appreciate reviews! They help me figure out what's working and what to change, and they motivate me to keep going. Thanks!**_


	16. Chapter 16: Tobias - Anger

_**A/N: After taking so long with the last couple of chapters, I figured I'd get this one out there quickly, even if it's short. By the way, the scene with Lauren refers to my "Divergent from Four's POV" stories (that chapter's in Part 2).**_

**Chapter 16: Tobias – Anger**

I can't remember the last time I felt this angry without a specific reason, as if I'm furious with the entire world. With my father and whoever scarred Peter like that and with every person who's ever inflicted that kind of violence on a child. With everyone who's stood by and kept quiet, allowing the violence to continue. With the rebels who founded our city and left us festering in a faction system that promoted silence and secrets and lies and hatred. With the government I've never even seen that drove them to do it in the first place. Even before that, with those who started the wars which led to the serum. With everyone.

I'm angry at myself too. If I'd been as good an instructor as Amar, I would have noticed the common theme in Peter's simulations. Maybe I could have helped him deal with his issues, helped him become a better person the way Amar helped me. Instead, I let him go, let him wallow in his dozens of fears because I didn't like him. And he took his fears out on Tris, attacking her because I did nothing to stop it.

I want to shred everything in sight with my bare fingers. Maybe I should use the punching bags, but there's something satisfying about those new guns – the machine gun that shoots over and over until the target has more holes than paper, and the cannon gun that blasts the entire target with a single shot. That's the kind of destruction I want to render right now.

But there's not much left on the wall, and it's obvious why. The other group is still in the shooting ranges. They haven't broken for lunch yet, and in that moment my fury extends to them too as they stand in my way. Particularly since I know who's in that group. I saw him in the cafeteria, sitting with Caleb as if he must be in charge of anyone connected to Abnegation. And he went with Tori and George, walking quietly with the others like he thought I didn't notice him.

Some distant, objective part of my brain knows I'm far too out of control to face him now, but I grab the largest gun left on the wall and head in that direction anyway. And Peter follows me. I'm not even sure why I invited him. It's not as if I want to talk to him, and I'm certainly not a role model he should be following at the moment. But I couldn't just leave him there, not after the way he was exposed to the whole group. Amar would never have done that if he'd known, if I'd done my job well enough to know to warn him. Instead, I stood there worrying about myself, about having to expose my skin to strangers, as if that's the worst thing in the world. The self-indulgence of it makes me feel sick.

I march into the shooting gallery without slowing down, my eyes looking wildly for Marcus. He stands at the fifth range, over halfway across the room, waiting his turn with that false patience, the look of a good Abnegation member, and suddenly all my fury is focused on him. My fingers grip the gun so tightly it might break, and my other hand balls into a fist, ready to strike. I'm halfway there when Lauren blocks my way, pushing a hand against my chest as she moves in front of me. Her eyes are wide with concern. It's no wonder. I'm sure I look like a maniac.

"What's wrong?" she asks, trying to catch my attention, and suddenly I'm reminded of how she kept me with the initiates after Tris stormed away from the fear landscape so long ago. She wanted to calm me down so I wouldn't hurt anyone – so I wouldn't hurt Tris. I didn't look like this then, did I? The thought reaches me through the anger, and I stop. I pull my eyes away from Marcus and force myself to look at Lauren, breathing deeply.

"I just want to shoot," I say desperately. She nods and steps toward the Dauntless man who's currently firing. She taps him on the shoulder and then pulls him away, gesturing me forward to take his place.

I'm vaguely aware of the silence growing around me, and I know people are turning to look, but I ignore them. I reach for ammunition, only to realize there's none here for the gun I'm holding, so I stand there breathing, trying to calm down.

Someone reaches for the gun in my hand, offering me another in its place, and I hear Tori's voice saying, "Here. This one is loaded." I look down, meeting her eyes for the first time since she had me beaten in the Erudite dormitory. There's understanding in them. She knows what it's like to feel this angry, and in this moment, there's no judgment or enmity between us.

"Thanks," I say simply. And then I take the gun and turn toward the target. The Dauntless man claps the ear protectors on my head, and I finally begin firing, feeling calmness spread through me gradually as I loose shot after shot at the target.

When I finish, the room is empty except for me and Peter. He's practicing with the machine gun, and I actually smile at the sight. I'm sure he only picked it because I claimed first dibs earlier. He didn't really seem interested in it before.

He stops after another moment, looking at me with that expression I can only describe as Peter. We both remove our ear protectors, and he says, "So, is it necessary to make that kind of entrance every time, or is the shooting enough?"

I stare at him for a second, and then suddenly I'm laughing. "Well, at least this way they'll be talking about us equally," I finally say.

"Yeah," he mutters, looking away uncomfortably. "I suppose there's that."

"Nevertheless," I say after another moment, "I've found that shooting does help, and punching bags, and working out in general. Amar is right about that."

Peter shrugs. "Personally, I've found that killing the bastard helps more, but I guess that's just me."

I stare at him, realizing he's serious. "When?" I ask.

He looks away. "Right after he gave me the big one," he says, gesturing over the largest knife scar on his stomach. "He passed out drunk and left me bleeding to death… and I decided not to die."

I nod. Judging by how old the scars looked, Peter was probably only eight or nine at the time. I remember how much I wanted to kill my father then, particularly after I thought my mother had died. I was sure he'd killed her, and I fantasized so much about revenge I don't even remember anything else from that age. So, no, I can't really blame Peter.

"Should we put these back?" he asks, holding up the machine gun, and I nod again.

"Yeah, we'd better clean up after ourselves." With a little smile, I add, "Since I think a couple of people might know we were the last ones here…"

_**A/N: Thank you to everyone who's reviewed! Please let me know what you think of this chapter. There's more back story on Peter, but I'm not sure how much to reveal how soon, so let me know if you're interested... Thanks!**_


	17. Chapter 17: Tris - Maps and Plans

_**A/N: Thanks to everyone who took the time to write a review for the last chapter. I really, really appreciate the kind words!**_

**Chapter 17: Tris – Maps and Plans**

By the time Tobias comes upstairs for lunch, most of the others have gone – Christina for a follow-up on her leg, Uriah to practice with the control simulator we used yesterday, and Cara to continue training downstairs with George. I expect Amar to go with them, but he stays, chatting comfortably with me and then with Tobias after he finally arrives.

Tobias doesn't say much. It's clear that he's calmer now, but his eyes are still full of thought, and he doesn't seem to want to talk about anything that happened downstairs. I can't blame him. After the way he was exposed at Candor, I'm sure he hated seeing Peter's secret forced into the open like that.

When we're done eating, Amar leads us back to Anna's office. She stands as we enter, smiling in greeting, and then gestures us toward the chairs. There are several maps strewn across her desk.

She gets right to the point. "I thought you'd like to see the plans, assuming you're still willing to go..." She raises an eyebrow hopefully, and I smile back at her. I guess there must be something of my mother in her mannerisms, because I always seem to want to please her.

"Yes, we're still going," I say immediately, not even trying to negotiate the point.

"However," Tobias states firmly, giving me a look, "we want input on the plans."

"Absolutely," Anna reassures him. "Nothing is set in stone here. In fact, there are a lot more unknowns than I'd like, so you're going to _have_ to come up with a chunk of it on the fly. But let's start with what we know…"

Pulling one of the maps forward, she begins, "this is the country of NUSA. It will be hard for you to grasp the scale, but this distance here is fifty miles, and this is a city that's about ten times larger than ours." I stare, staggered by the size of the country. My entire world has always consisted of one city, but you could fit thousands of those inside NUSA.

Anna continues, "This shading indicates population density – the darker the color, the more people live in that area. Our city population is about this color here," and she indicates a spot that's almost white. Then, she runs her finger down a long, dark stretch that contains a dozen labeled dots, with Philadelphia in the center. "As you can see, the population is heavily concentrated along the coast, with the capitol in the middle, and it gets sparser as you move west. " Her finger moves to the northwest corner of the map, to an area that appears to be in the middle of a huge lake. "We are approximately here."

"I never noticed that we live underwater," Tobias states evenly, and I bite back a laugh.

Amar grins. "Until very recently, that's exactly what NUSA thought." His smile fades as he adds, "Unfortunately, they know better now."

Tobias nods, looking back at the map. I doubt he grasps the size of this world any better than I do. I'm used to distances I can measure with my feet, not ones that would take months to walk, if it's even possible to cross them on foot.

Amar draws his finger along a line that travels south from us and then east, stopping on a dot labeled Pittsburgh. "We expect them to gather their forces in Pittsburgh and take this route to us," he says as he retraces the line in reverse. "It's their westernmost city, so it's the closest point for attacking us, and this is the least damaged roadway leading from there to here, so it's a pretty safe bet."

"Based on that," Anna says, "we've sent forces to bomb the road here." She places her finger east of a point called Indianapolis. "No one lives there, so it will take them a while to bring in supplies to fix the road or bypass it."

"In the meantime," Amar adds, "we'll be taking this route." His finger traces a line that runs almost directly east from us. "It's a much more difficult road, because large stretches of it washed away years ago. But that makes it unlikely they'll use it, whereas we have some experience working around that." I nod. So far, it makes sense.

"We'll take four vehicles to this point," he continues, pointing to an intersection with another line, "and then the others will split off. One will go south to Pittsburgh, one down to Morgantown, and one all the way to Hagerstown. All three of those groups will set off bombs simultaneously, targeting water treatment plants if possible, or connecting roadways if they can't get to the water plants. The idea is to make it look like we're trying to slow down the troops. That will hopefully attract attention and forces away from Philadelphia around the time we get there."

Tobias frowns. "It could also cause them to heighten their security across the board."

"That's possible," Anna admits, "but we feel it's unlikely they'll worry about the Control Computer. As far as we know, they can replace it easily, or broadcast from a backup location, and they don't know that someone with your ability exists. So, it's a pretty good bet that the attacks will distract them from you, rather than making things worse."

I look at her, frowning a little too. "It could also cause them to increase the amount of serum they add to the water," I say, "and to increase the frequency of their broadcasts. If they want tighter control over the population, that seems like the logical thing to do."

Amar nods. "The thing is, we're pretty sure they're doing that anyway, because they wouldn't want to send the bulk of their troops here without securing the populace first. And there's a maximum dose they can use before their people start dying… so it's hard to see how the attacks could make that aspect worse."

Tobias and I exchange a glance. I hate arguments that start with "it's hard to see," because they're often wrong, but Amar does have a point.

Anna sits back, steepling her fingers and touching them to her lips thoughtfully. "One of the biggest variables is how much contact to make with the other rebel groups along the way. There are a few we've worked with before, and if they're still operating normally, they would definitely make things easier. But that's a big gamble."

Amar's voice is careful as he explains, "Something you need to understand is that _everybody_ in NUSA is potentially a threat, even the kids you see in the street, and even the rebels. They all have receivers implanted in them. If the government does increase the dose or the broadcasts, those allies could turn on us without warning."

I'm about to say it's obvious we should avoid them when Anna adds, "But on the flip side, it's impossible to travel all the way to Philadelphia without some kind of help. If nothing else, the van will need gas, and that requires money."

"Money?" Tobias asks.

Amar scratches the back of his neck. "That's kind of a hard concept to explain. In the factions, you receive food, clothing, housing, and all that stuff because you're a member of the faction, and you work a job within that faction as part of being a member. In NUSA, people receive money in exchange for their work, and they use that money to buy food, clothing, and so on. Nothing is given to them except for water – for obvious reasons. The bottom line is that we'll need money in order to travel within the country."

"If we can't trust the other rebel groups," I say, "how else can we get money?"

Amar debates that for a moment before saying "we should definitely bring some items that we could sell. But if that's not enough, the only other choice is to steal. That attracts attention, but it may be what we have to do."

I scowl at him, not liking that option at all. It was strange enough taking supplies from Candor, let alone stealing from total strangers, not knowing if they might go hungry as a result. But that's only a small part of what's bothering me. There's a much bigger tension building in my stomach as I look at the map and the hundreds of miles we'll need to cover. We know so little about what we'll encounter, and if we can't trust anyone, even our allies… how can we possibly do this?

"Anyway," Amar says, clearing his throat, "our goal is to get here." He points to the dark area labeled Philadelphia and then reaches for another map. This one shows streets, and it's clear it's a detailed view of the city. "We'll be bringing two guides who used to live in the area. Hopefully, they can help us find local resources and a place to stay while we scout out the city."

I look up, a thought prickling at the back of my mind. "But won't they have the same problem as the other rebels? What if they turn on us?"

Anna nods solemnly. "That's one of the biggest dangers of this mission, but we do have one thing that will help. Jeanine designed a special filtration system to separate the serum from water, and with the help of some other people we pulled from Erudite over the years, we were able to come up with a portable water bottle that does the filtering without being obvious about it. The guides will each have one of those, and as long as they only drink their filtered water, they'll be relatively safe. They'll still receive the extra broadcasts, but without the serum, they should be able to withstand those."

I bite my lip as I think about that. As with everything else, it's risky, but the alternative is to go there blind, and that seems even worse.

"Okay," Tobias says, "assuming we get there, where is the Control Computer?"

"Our information is that it's in one of these two buildings," Amar answers, indicating two locations a few blocks apart. "We don't know which, so we'll have to scout them out when we get there."

Tobias quirks a skeptical eyebrow. "Do you at least know something about the security in the buildings?"

"Very little," Anna says grimly. "Just that it's relatively light. As I said earlier, the government doesn't think there's much threat to the computer system, and they may also feel it's better not to attract attention to it. After all, their approach works best when the people don't know they're being controlled."

I give Tobias a half smile. "Well, at least we have plenty of opportunity for input." He tries to smile back, but I can see the worry in his eyes. Actually, panic might be a better term for it. I suppose I should feel that way too, but instead I find my gaze wandering to the surrounding buildings – particularly to a building across a narrow alleyway from one of the two we need to evaluate.

"What supplies can we bring?" I ask.

"We're limited to what we can hide in the van," Amar answers. "The odds are high that we'll be searched at some point along the way, but there's a secret compartment in the floor, so we can bring about nine cubic feet of materials." After a moment, he adds, "We might be able to get some additional supplies there, depending on what you want."

I point between the buildings and say, "What about something to get from this roof to that one?" Beside me, I can feel Tobias tense, but he doesn't say anything.

Amar looks at the buildings, evaluating the idea. "There's a decent chance we can get rope there," he says slowly, "but I don't know how we'd secure it on the other side. We should look downstairs and see if we can find something to take."

I nod. "I'd like to look at all the supplies downstairs, now that we have a better idea what we're facing."

"Sure," Amar says. "We can do that after dinner, when the training is done. We'll have the place to ourselves then. And… if you want, you can bring the others. I don't know how much you want to share with them, so I'll leave that up to you."

Tobias purses his lips thoughtfully, looking at me, and I shrug. "Cara helped a lot with the last plan," I tell him. "And Christina did too."

He nods. "Uriah was helpful with ours, and he's probably the most resistant of them, so I guess we might as well bring all three." Then, he turns and looks levelly at Anna. "You've been careful with pronouns. You aren't coming with us, are you?"

His comment surprises me, because now that I think about it, he's right, but I didn't notice it earlier.

Anna shakes her head slowly, her mouth tightening. "No," she admits. "It's been brought to my attention that I need to stay here and negotiate with Evelyn to prepare the city. She apparently won't work with Marcus."

I snort. "Did you honestly think she would?" I ask.

Her eyes are a bit sad as she answers, "Yes, I did. I didn't realize until yesterday the depth of her hatred, so I assumed she could set her feelings aside enough to act in the city's best interests. It seems I was wrong about that."

Tobias is still watching Anna, his eyes narrow. "I won't work with him, either, if you're wondering," he says.

She sighs, kneading the back of her neck. In that moment, something about the set of her mouth reminds me of my mother, and I feel an odd desire to make things easier on her somehow. But I don't. Tobias has the right to decide if he will or won't work with his father.

"He is Divergent," Anna says quietly, her eyes meeting Tobias'. "And he knows more about what you'll be facing than almost anyone else. Your odds of succeeding would be higher with him along." She gestures toward me without moving her gaze and adds, "_She_ is more likely to live if he goes with you."

I tense. Anna has just found the one argument that could convince Tobias, and it bothers me that she did it so easily. It must bother him too, because his mouth sets in a line, and he glares at her for another few seconds. Finally, his eyes flick to me and then to Amar.

"She's right," Amar says simply. "There's no question that he would add value to the team, but not if he'll distract you too much. You have to decide that."

Tobias looks down at his hands for a long time, and then he turns to me. His voice is quiet as he says, "It's up to you. I'm too biased to make the call."

I didn't expect that, and for a moment I'm humbled that he's trusting me with something this important to him. But I'm not sure which decision is right. I despise Marcus for what he did to Tobias, but I was able to look past that just a few days ago, when I worked with him to go after Amanda Ritter's video. We certainly couldn't have done that without him, and not just because he had knowledge he wouldn't share. He was also very focused on the mission, and he helped keep the rest of us that way too. Maybe this is another time we need him… There's also something else – something selfish.

I look at Tobias and say gently, "I'd rather risk his life than yours." He nods, closing his eyes. Turning to Anna, I add, "He can come as long as he's not in charge."

"Don't worry about that," Amar says. "_I'm_ in charge." And for the first time, I understand why he's here with us and not in the training room, why he's been staying with us practically every waking moment since we arrived. This is his mission, and we're at the center of it. I'm not sure exactly why, but the thought makes me feel better. I don't know when I started trusting him so much.

"Good," I say, meeting his gaze. But something about his expression is off, and I think I know why. "Who else is coming?" I ask.

He answers slowly. "We had to weed out some volunteers because of low resistance, and one because of age." The corner of his mouth quirks as he says, "Some Divergent girl you saved in Candor tried to volunteer, but she was only nine." He clears his throat. "Anyway, the remaining group is about the right size, so I'd like to bring them all unless you have a major objection." By the look on his face, I know I will, but after deciding that Marcus could come… I probably can't say no to what I suspect he's about to say.

He continues, "That means your friends Uriah and Robert, and Lisa – the woman you met yesterday. And of course Cara and Christina and Marcus, as we just discussed. Our two guides – you met Pari the other night, and the other is Margot. Oh, and Lauren," and he gives Tobias a quick smile. Then, his face turns serious again as he finally says the last two. "And Caleb and Peter."

Even though I expected him to say that, the words still run through me like ice, carrying cold through every extremity of my body. Caleb is resistant enough to go with us. My voice is stern as I say, "Does that mean he wasn't under the serum when he betrayed us? When he helped kill Marlene, and lured me to Erudite to torture me and try to kill me? Was he acting freely then?"

Anna shakes her head. "No, it doesn't mean that at all. He's resistant, but not as much as you are, and he's not nearly as strong-willed. Like almost everyone else, he has a breaking point. With a high enough dose, he falls, and our information is that Jeanine was using some extreme doses – high enough to kill the people who live out here." She gestures into the vague distance, in what I assume is NUSA's direction.

She looks at me and adds gently, "We wouldn't be considering him if I didn't believe he's genuinely remorseful."

I stare at her for a moment, feeling a burning behind my eyes. Finally, I have to look away, blinking back the moisture. I don't want to cry here.

Tobias takes my hand, squeezing it gently. "_I_ decide this time," he says. I look up, about to protest, but he's right. For all the same reasons he let me decide with Marcus, he needs to be the one to decide on Caleb. Oddly, I feel relief at the thought. Either way, if something happens to Caleb, it won't be my fault. I nod.

"He comes with us," Tobias says to Anna. Then his voice turns deadly as he adds, "but I'll be the one to tell him." There's something satisfying about that answer…

I swallow and then look up at him again. "What about Peter? You know we can't trust him."

Tobias' eyes are thoughtful as he says, "He's helped us as often as not, but no, he's obviously not reliable."

"I don't know what to make of him," Amar admits, interrupting Tobias' thought. "But you should know that he's the most resistant person we've ever tested. We gave him more serum than we've ever used before, and it had absolutely no effect. That's the only reason I'm suggesting him."

I stare at him and then at Tobias. "Is he Divergent?" I ask. The idea never occurred to me before, but it makes a kind of sense. After all, he was never under Jeanine's simulations.

"Not that I know of," Tobias answers at the same time Amar says, "Yes." We both look at him.

He shrugs. "George was curious, so he administered another aptitude test. The results were… disturbing." At our raised eyebrows, he sighs and continues. "He manipulated the simulation right up front so he could pick up both the knife and the cheese. He fed the cheese to the dog – and then stabbed it while it was eating. When the girl came in, he said he'd killed her dog because it attacked him, and he threatened to send her to jail for releasing a vicious animal. Then, he stabbed himself in the leg to exit the simulation. The program showed him as having no aptitudes whatsoever."

"He made sure he didn't match anything," I say quietly.

Anna nods. "He wanted us to know he's Divergent, without knowing anything about his actual abilities."

"But why?" Tobias asks.

"So we'd let him go with us," I answer slowly, "without assigning him any duties."

There's another silence, and then I add, "What I can't figure out is why he wants to go."

We all look at each other, and it's clear no one has any answers. Finally, Tobias says, "I guess we'll have to ask him..."

_**A/N: I'm not sure when I'll be able to post the next chapter, with travel, the holidays, family, etc. So, don't worry if there's nothing new for a week. It doesn't mean I've abandoned the story or anything! In the meantime, I always appreciate reviews... Thanks!**_


	18. Chapter 18: Tobias - Consequences

**__****A/N: Okay, I had time for one more chapter before hitting the road. This one's a bit different. Please let me know what you think of it.**

**Chapter 18: Tobias – Consequences**

We spend the next couple of hours practicing with the control simulator. It quickly becomes obvious that Tris is better at it than I am. I can relay information without a problem, but I'm told that my messages lack the intensity to make people believe me if they're not already inclined to. Tris, on the other hand, seems able to convince everyone of anything she chooses. I can't say that surprises me.

Once she's consistently transmitting the message correctly, Tris goes downstairs to train some more with the others, while I keep practicing. The longer we continue, the more annoyed I become, and while I succeed in transmitting that feeling very well, it's debatably helpful.

Finally, Anna takes a seat beside me, pursing her lips thoughtfully. "We need a different approach," she says. "You clearly have the ability to do this, but it won't work unless you convey a strong emotion with it – something that makes people see through your eyes and agree with you. And for whatever reasons, you seem reluctant to share your feelings that way."

I don't bother answering. It's hardly a shock that I hide my feelings, after growing up in a faction where emotions were considered selfish and a household where the only sentiments I saw were anger and fear.

"I'd suggest," Anna says after a moment, "that for now, you transmit whatever message or memory you want – anything strong – to whoever you're comfortable sharing it with. That should help you get the hang of it. Maybe you'd be willing to share something with Tris that way?"

My entire body goes tense, and I shake my head automatically. It's not that I haven't shared my feelings with Tris – of course I have. It's just that they're much stronger than I've ever let her see, and I'm afraid of scaring her off. She grew up in Abnegation too, after all, and she still struggles with intimacy. There's no way I'm going to blast her with emotion in order to master this machine.

"Okay," Anna says with a sigh. "Then, maybe there's someone you'd like to send a… less positive message to?"

She's obviously referring to Marcus, but that's an even worse thought. I don't want to be anywhere near him, let alone be connected mind to mind in any manner. The idea makes me shudder. But it also leads me down a different path. Maybe there is one experience I could share with someone I wouldn't mind inflicting it on…

"Caleb," I say firmly. "I have something to show him."

Anna looks hesitant, and I remember that he's her grandson, but she must value the mission more than that relationship, because she nods reluctantly. "Okay," she says. "I'll have someone get him."

* * *

Caleb is clearly nervous as they connect him to the receiving computer. "What are you going to show me?" he asks, his eyes wide as they meet mine.

I give him a hard look, debating whether or not to answer, and then respond simply, "Consequences." After a few seconds, I add, "If you want to come with us, you'll listen and try to learn. I assume that Erudite brain of yours is capable of that?" He nods, swallowing hard.

Once he's connected, I look at the others and say sternly, "You'll need to wait outside. No one else watches this." That seems to make Caleb even more nervous, and I see the others exchanging worried looks, but Anna escorts them from the room without debate.

I reconnect myself to the sending computer and sit there for a moment, trying to compose my thoughts. But there's no real preparation for this, so I take a deep breath and fill my mind with the memory that's haunted me for the last two weeks.

I'm in my tiny cell in Erudite, the walls pressing in around me, but I don't even notice them anymore… except as an obstacle. I need to get through them, desperately need to escape. Tris' execution has been moved to this morning, and I can't let that happen. There is nothing beyond that.

My fists keep pounding on the door, on the walls, on the ceiling – on anything that looks like it might give way. The mattress and sheets are mangled on the floor, but the cot is bolted in place, and no matter how much I tear at it, I can't make it move.

The panic is a wild animal inside me, ripping me apart from within. My shouts echo through the room, cries of pain and desperation. I don't even know what I yell. There has to be some way out of here. It's impossible to let this happen.

And then I see it, her hand pressed to the tiny window high up on the door. She reaches inside my heart and yanks me toward her, and then I'm staring down at her face, at the only face I love, the only person I care about in this world. She can't die. She can't.

She looks up at me bravely, calmly, and I know she's accepted her fate. But I can't. I can't let her go. I stare at her hungrily, a thousand unsaid words fighting for release all at once. I need more time with her, need to hold her, need to kiss her, need everything. I place my hand against hers on the glass, trying to reach through it to her fingers. And then I set my forehead on the window the way I've so often pressed it to her, trying to feel that connection one more time. The last time. My eyes close for just a moment.

When I open them, she's gone. The emptiness is beyond despair. A hole has been ripped through me, taking my soul with it. I stagger backwards, tripping on the shredded mattress and falling to the floor. I pull my knees to me and sob.

I don't know how long I stay that way. Eternity never ends.

When the door opens, I don't lunge at it, because I know what it means. They wouldn't open it if there was still time for me to help her. It must be too late, and they're coming for something else.

"What do–" I yell. Fury is the only emotion I have left.

But then I see her, limp and lifeless in Peter's arms. I can't breathe. "Oh my God." My heart is pounding so hard I'm sure it will burst, will stop like hers. "Oh–."

Peter interrupts me. "Spare me your blubbering, okay?" For a split second, the entirety of my anger focuses on him, and I begin moving toward him, fast, with no thought except how to kill him. How quickly and in what manner. But he continues, "She's not dead; she's just paralyzed."

The words shock through me, filling me with more emotion than I can process, more than I can even remotely handle. I stare at her, trying to see if he's right, and I see the very slight movement of a breath. She's alive. _Alive._

I take a weak step toward her, barely able to stand but even less able to stay away from her. I'm vaguely aware of Peter's voice saying, "It'll only last for about a minute. Now get ready to run." The words don't make sense. I tear my eyes away from her long enough to stare at Peter. Is he offering to help us escape?

The thought fills me with dread, because I know Peter would never do that. And that must mean I'm in a simulation, and Tris is really dead, and Jeanine is experimenting on me again. But I feel the raw edge of the pain, and my eyes take in Tris' face, her limp body, the slight twitch of movement, and I know beyond doubt that this is real. She's real. I just know.

"Let me carry her," I say hoarsely.

Peter shakes his head immediately. "No," he says firmly. "You're a better shot than I am. Take my gun. I'll carry her." I can't stand the thought of her in his arms, but in that moment, I know he's right. All that matters now is getting Tris to safety. I slide his gun from the holster, and as I feel the weight of the metal in my hand, I know I will kill anyone who stands in the way of that goal. _Anyone_, without hesitation or doubt.

I pull myself back from the memory, aware of the chair underneath me again, and I direct the next thought with every bit of mental strength I can muster.

_"Including you, Caleb, if you __**ever**__ harm her again."_

I breathe out, feeling the explosion of anger and grief and fear and hope releasing all at once. I tear the sensors from my head and sit forward, pressing my hands to my face and letting the tears fall. It takes several minutes to pull myself together, but Caleb doesn't emerge from the other room, so I don't rush. When I'm finally calm enough, I stalk across the room and open the door to check on him.

I half expect to see that he removed the sensors before I started and is hiding there. Instead, I see him sitting in the chair, still connected, his face soaked with tears. He looks up at me, and I recognize my own desperation mirrored in his eyes. Apparently, I succeeded in sending the message strongly enough.

"I'm so sorry," he gasps, choking on a sob. "I didn't know…" He rubs at his face, his entire body shaking. "I mean, I knew you were dating, but I thought it was just… I didn't know it was like that. And everything was being recorded, so we couldn't say anything in advance, not to either of you."

He wraps his arms around himself, rocking back and forth in the chair. "She seemed so calm as she entered the room, I thought maybe she'd figured it out. That maybe what I'd done wasn't so bad…"

His voice suddenly rises to a shout. "What the hell kind of person am I? How could I do something like that? To her, to you, to everybody." Another sob racks his body, and he doubles over as if in pain. "I've never loved anyone like that… the way you do. I've never felt anything that deep. My whole life, I've been nothing but selfish."

For a moment, watching him, I remember Tris berating herself at Al's service, and I begin to feel something like sympathy for Caleb. He's not much older than she is, and he's struggling with many of the same issues. The loneliness of Abnegation, the struggle to fit in somewhere else, the loss of his parents, the crushing guilt of how his actions have affected others.

Maybe I've done enough to him. I reach over and begin pulling the sensors from his head. He winces away from me, the same way I pulled back from my father a hundred times over the years, but I don't let my hand drop.

"It's time for dinner," I say quietly as I continue to remove the electrodes. "And then we need to figure out what supplies we're taking with us."

He meets my gaze tearfully. "I can come with you?"

"Yeah," I answer simply. And then I manage a small smile. "But we really need to work on your self-defense skills. Right now, you're pretty useless." As I say it, I remember that he fired Tris' gun once, back in Amity. He may have saved our lives in the process. I look at him again, trying to evaluate him without the bias of everything that's happened since. Maybe, just maybe, he has some skills to offer, if we let him.

I extend a hand to him, and when he tentatively takes it, I pull him to his feet. "We should probably clean up a bit," I comment.

"Yeah," he says with a weak laugh. "You don't look so good."

_**A/N: Okay, same note as last chapter, but for real this time... I'm not sure when I'll be able to post the next chapter, with travel, the holidays, family, etc. So, don't worry if there's nothing new for a week. It doesn't mean I've abandoned the story or anything! In the meantime, I really appreciate reviews... Thanks!**_


	19. Chapter 19: Tris - Best Laid Plans

**Chapter 19: Tris – Best Laid Plans**

Christina, Uriah, and I take turns working with Cara on fighting techniques. It's odd to see someone from Erudite having so much difficulty grasping a subject, but I should know by now that intelligence doesn't make everything easy. Eventually, Uriah's patient repetition works, and Cara develops a passable level of skill in a few techniques. I try to tell myself it will be enough.

As I'm watching them spar yet again, I notice Tori looking at the "wall of weapons," as we've taken to calling it. For a moment, I think about how unlikely it is that we'll both survive the next week, and I realize that I need to at least try to mend our relationship before I leave. After everything she's done for me, I can't do otherwise. So, I walk over and stand beside her. We both look at the weapons.

"Hi," I say in my best attempt at a casual voice. It comes out tight and tense.

Tori glances at me, but then her eyes return to the guns. After what seems like a very long time, she asks, "Did Four calm down?"

"From when?" I ask curiously. I'm not trying to be smart – I'm just not certain when she last saw him – but her mouth curves with amusement.

"He does walk that line between calm and angry a lot, doesn't he?"

I shrug a little, not sure how to answer that statement. He doesn't usually seem angry to me… But I seem to be the only one who sees the gentler side of him, so I decide to change the subject.

"You're helping the city, aren't you?"

"Yes," she answers, directing her gaze at me more solidly now. "It took me a while to buy into all this, but I finally believe the danger is real." She gives a half shrug. "So, I guess I need to do my part, despite the bum leg and all." My stomach squirms uncomfortably. Does she blame me for that?

She must read the guilt in my face, because she sighs and says, "It's not entirely your fault – I was shot, after all. And I suppose when it comes down to it… I should have listened when you tried to stop me. You'd earned that."

The statement makes me angry, because she's right. After everything I did to help Dauntless, I did earn the right to have its leaders listen to me. But I'm here to try to patch things up, so I grit my teeth and try to let the anger slide.

She gives me an evaluating look and finally suggests, "How about we call a truce?"

"A truce?" I weigh the word for a moment, and then deep inside me, something I hadn't realized was broken clicks back into place. Abnegation teaches us that we have to give of ourselves completely, so a truce is never possible there – only forgiveness, a total surrender to the other person's needs. And I'm not ready to do that, but I can definitely meet Tori half-way. I grin in agreement.

The corners of her mouth lift a little as she offers her hand Dauntless-style. I've never been good at shaking hands, but I give it my best shot. She has the grace to act like it was a good handshake.

"I do wish you luck, by the way," she comments. " I don't know a whole lot about what you're doing, but George says it's important. I hope it goes well."

"I take it you're talking to him again?"

"Yeah… It's always been hard to stay mad at him." Her face turns serious again as she adds, "And it's not like I _wanted_ him dead. I was just… angry about how much of my life I wasted on revenge."

I nod, but I don't know what to say. I've never faced a situation like hers before, and I don't know how I'd feel if I did. It's hard enough trying to figure out how to deal with Caleb.

Tori watches me for another moment and then says, "On that subject… I've had enough revenge for a lifetime, so… if I don't get to see him before you go, tell Four that I'm not holding a grudge anymore. I'm still not thrilled with what he did, but all things considered, it doesn't seem that important now."

I know that's the best she can do, so I answer, "I'll tell him. And… thanks, Tori. For everything. I wouldn't be here if I'd had a different tester, you know."

A wry smile splits her face. "No, I suppose you wouldn't, Divergent. Tell you what, if you save the city, I'll claim some credit for it, and we'll call it even. Okay?"

I grin at her. "It's a deal."

* * *

Cara is tired but enthusiastic at dinner. She keeps trying her favorite hand grip on the food, with dubious results. Uriah laughs when she mangles the slice of bread she's handing him – until he realizes it's the last piece. Then, the mournful look he gives her breaks us all up.

"Maybe you can piece it together with butter," Christina suggests, barely able to speak through her laughter. She proceeds to demonstrate, forming a massive ball of lumpy bread and wads of butter. She proclaims, "Good as new!" as she rolls it across the table to him.

Somewhat to my disgust, he catches it and takes an enormous bite as if it's an apple. "Not bad…" he mumbles through the food, still grinning. But then his expression hardens at the sight of something behind me.

I turn around to see Tobias entering the room with Caleb. I tense immediately, knowing that they must have just talked, and that Caleb is officially coming with us. I turn back to the table so I don't have to look at my brother.

Tobias sits down next to me, and his hand grasps mine under the table. He clenches hard for a moment, and when I look at him, I realize his face is blotchy. It must have been a difficult discussion.

Part of me wants to be mad at his decision, but I had my chance to protest earlier and chose not to. There's no point in it now. Instead, I ask him quietly, "Are you okay?"

His voice is low as he answers, "I'm better now." I'm not sure what he means by that, but I suspect the answer has something to do with the way he's holding my hand and looking at me like he never wants to stop. I suppose talking to Caleb reminded him of being in Erudite, the same way it does for me. I squeeze his hand back, but I turn my gaze to the others, since I know Tobias won't want all their attention focused on him right now.

It turns out there's no need to worry about that. Christina, Uriah, and Cara are all staring at Caleb, who sat down on Tobias' other side. It's the first time he's joined us since we rescued him.

Not surprisingly, Christina is the first to react. "Why are _you_ here?" she asks more loudly than necessary.

Caleb shrinks back like he wants to leave, but Tobias clamps a hand on his arm and answers sternly, "Because he's going with us, and we need to learn to work together."

"Are you kidding me?" Christina demands. "I barely get to go, and _he's_ welcome along after everything he did?"

"I was under the serum," Caleb says quickly, his voice tense. "A really high dose… I'm not like that now."

"Which doesn't mean you won't be again," Uriah states flatly. It's strange to hear such coldness in his voice, but of course he must wonder what role Caleb played in Marlene's death. It speaks volumes about him that he helped with the rescue despite that.

Caleb looks up almost defiantly. "No," he says loudly, "there are no guarantees – with any of us. But I know about the serum now, which means I can fight it better. And it takes a large dose to affect me – larger than for most of you. So, I'm not any more of a risk than you are."

I glare at him, annoyed. I'm not sure if it's because he sounds superior, or like he's not responsible for anything he did, or like he's attacking my friends.

Before I can say anything in response, Cara answers calmly. "That might be true, but the problem is we can't verify it. And if you're going to ask us to accept your statement on faith, I would suggest being less belligerent about it."

Caleb's cheeks turn red, and he stares at the table for a moment. I'm reminded of all the times he reprimanded me at our family's dinner table. It seems that his fellow Erudite has the power to shame him the same way. After a long pause, he sighs and mutters, "I didn't mean to be belligerent, and I am sorry for what I did. If you can't forgive me, I understand, but I'll do my best anyway."

Cara nods, and I can see that there's no real anger in her. That shouldn't surprise me. She found a way to forgive me for killing Will, and it must be a breeze in comparison for her to forgive Caleb.

She turns her gaze to Christina and adds, "And you should remember how you behaved under the simulation. The two scenarios aren't that different."

Christina's eyes narrow, but she bites back her response. I still don't know what she did under the simulation, and I don't want to, but whatever it is must still haunt her. After a moment, she says, "Point taken."

I can feel the tide turning – the others beginning to accept Caleb – and I don't like it. I look at Uriah, but not with any real hope. He's far too easy-going to join me in holding a grudge. Sure enough, his eyes are on Tobias, and I know he will take his cue from him, as he usually does. Tobias is practically a second brother to him, after all.

For a long moment, I stare at the table, knowing that now I'm the only hold-up, the only one who doesn't want to let my brother help us. Maybe if I refuse to look at Tobias, he'll give in and change his mind. But I know he won't. And honestly I wouldn't respect him if he did.

With a sigh, I finally look up and meet Tobias' gaze. His eyes are steady on me, but I can't help but notice how bloodshot they are. It reminds me that he felt Caleb's betrayal almost as strongly as I did. He must be truly convinced or he would never have agreed to let him come with us, would never be holding him at this table until we come to some kind of terms.

And suddenly I feel tired, so tired of holding onto all this anger. I can't forgive Caleb, at least not yet, but I think of the truce Tori offered, and I realize that maybe I can do that much.

I clear my throat and say quietly, "You'll have to earn forgiveness over time, but I'll give you the chance to do that."

Something in Caleb's expression breaks, and he looks at me with more depth of emotion than I've ever seen in him. His voice is hoarse as he says, "I won't let you down again. I swear."

It's all I can do to nod.

* * *

After dinner, Amar takes us back downstairs as he promised earlier. There's no discussion about who should come, but Caleb joins us, and no one stops him. The others Amar mentioned don't come – apparently, no one told them about it – and I'm glad. I still don't trust Peter, and I don't know how good the others are at planning.

Tobias and I fill our little group in on the bare bones of the plan. We don't name the city or talk about how we'll get there, but we explain that we need to do reconnaissance in an extremely crowded city and then break into a building based on our findings. Cara and Caleb immediately go into Erudite mode and begin thinking through logical options, but somewhat to my surprise, Christina and Uriah are just as helpful. The Dauntless do know more about tactics after all.

Together, we select weapons and a few key supplies from a storage room we didn't see earlier.

"This place has the coolest toys," Uriah says as he throws an object that curves around the room and returns to his hand – Amar called it a boomerang.

"Yeah," Christina agrees enthusiastically. "Like this," and she stretches some type of rope between her hands.

I look at it curiously. "What is that?"

"No idea," she says with a grin, "but it's cool."

"It's a bungee cord," Amar explains. "You can actually jump from a building on that, and it will stretch way down and then pull you back up again." Tobias looks a bit pale at the idea of jumping from a building on something stretchy and flimsy looking, but Christina quietly adds it to our growing pile of items to consider.

"We should all bring very large coats," Cara says thoughtfully. "That way, we can hide stuff on us as we walk around the city."

Caleb nods energetically, a little too eager to agree with her. "But they should be old, so it looks like we're poor and have to wear whatever we can find. Otherwise, it might look suspicious." I don't say it aloud, but that's actually a pretty good idea.

We've been in the selection process for close to an hour when we hear a burst of noise coming from the stairway, and people begin streaming into the room. Anna, George, and Marcus are among them, but I don't know the others. They're talking loudly, in highly agitated tones, and it's immediately clear that something is very wrong.

Amar walks quickly toward them, and I hear him saying, "Via!" to a tall woman with red hair that is turning gray. She looks like she hasn't slept in days, and there's dried blood along the side of her face. Amar grasps her arm in greeting, and she gives him an extremely brief hug.

"Bad news, I'm afraid," she says hoarsely.

Anna walks past them to the wall of weapons and pins the map of NUSA up where we can all see it. "Olivia," she says in an attempt at calmness, "could you please repeat what you just told me?"

Olivia walks over the map and says tiredly, "They've mobilized much faster than we expected. When we reached Indianapolis, there were already troops there. They ambushed us as we tried to get gas, and Adam and Priscilla were killed instantly. Maya was badly injured, but we were able to get away and come up old highway 65." She runs her finger up a line that goes from Indianapolis to where Anna said our city is located. "We bombed the road around here, but we didn't get a good hit, and there's too much flat land around it. It won't delay them long. My guess is they'll be here in three or four days."

Silence greets her statement, and then Amar asks quietly, "Did Maya make it?" Olivia's mouth pulls into a tight line as she shakes her head. Her eyes are moist.

"Obviously, we should redirect our forces," Marcus states firmly. "There are multiple routes out of Indianapolis, but we can delay the troops' progress significantly if we bomb the major roads – most importantly, 55 and 57. We will also need to finish the job on 65." His eyes are cold as he looks at Olivia, as if she failed her mission. Her hands ball into fists in response, but she doesn't answer aloud.

Amar steps forward, saying, "We should also bomb 69. We'll pass right by it on our way, and it would be a sensible precaution."

"The difficulty with all of those roads," Anna says in frustration, "is that the land around them is flat. It doesn't do much good to bomb the pavement if the troops can just use the dirt instead. We're better off trying to extend the water barrier around the city."

"That's too unpredictable," a man I don't know says. "We could end up flooding the city or draining away some of the existing barrier."

"What choice do we have?" Anna demands. "We have to buy some time."

"What if we evacuate some of the Divergent population and bring them here?" someone else asks. "They could survive here for years, and then at least we could try again later if the current effort fails."

That leads to an explosion of conversation. After a few minutes, Anna shouts, "Stop it! We need to decide what to do about Amar and his group _first_, so they can get on their way." She turns to Amar and says, "Do you still want to take the other three vehicles?"

Amar hesitates, looking at the map. Finally, he says, "No, you need them more than we do, and it's obviously too late for our original plan anyway. Just give me two – ours and one more. We'll bomb 69 on the way and Pittsburgh after that. Maybe we can at least slow down the flow of troops coming here."

His eyes move to George, and there's an odd intensity in his voice as he adds, "Hold them off as long as you can, and we'll rush as much as we can from our end. It's the best we can do." George bites his lip and nods, looking deeply worried.

Anna turns to the others and says, "They'll need items they can sell – jewelry is the easiest, particularly if it has silver or gold. If you have anything they can use, give it to them now." And she walks over to us and hands me a gold band with a small but elegant diamond on it. It's clearly her wedding ring, and my fingers tremble slightly as I take it. She closes my hand around it, squeezing gently with both of her hands as she says, "Don't sell it if you don't have to, but I'd rather have you back than it." She gives me a quick hug, whispering in my ear, "Good luck, Tris."

I don't have time to answer because the moment she moves out of the way, other people come forward, pressing jewelry into my hands and murmuring encouragement.

Beside me, I see George holding Amar's gaze as he shakily hands him a ring – one that matches the ring on Amar's wedding finger. I close my eyes. I didn't even know they were a couple, and now they're being separated by war.

I turn automatically to Tobias, in time to see Marcus shoving two silver rings at him and saying coldly, "Your mother says hello." Fierce anger goes through me, and I'm about to tell Marcus that he can't come with us after all, but then he leaves to collect the rest of our group, and it's too late.

Within minutes, everything the crowd can give us has been stashed in our pockets, and we begin grabbing the weapons and supplies we gathered earlier.

"Just take the whole pile," Amar tells us. "We'll sort it in the van and dump what we don't need when we stop for gas."

I take a last desperate look around, trying to see if there's anything else we should bring, but there's no time. It's obvious that speed is more important than details right now, particularly since most of the plan has just been thrown out the window. So, I pick up my share of the supplies and follow the others out the door.

The rest of our group joins us as we climb the never-ending stairs, and then we're putting on coats someone found for us and are filing into the back of the van. Marcus and Amar sit up front to drive, and I see four strangers getting into a black SUV next to us. I had assumed that our group was splitting up to do the bombing, but apparently there were always additional people slated for that role. It makes me realize how little I know.

Tobias sits on the floor, his back in a corner, and pulls me against him as Pari closes the doors. I lean into him in the blackness, feeling his arms tight around me, and for a moment, I wish fiercely that we had one more night here to spend together – one more night to be alone. But then the van rumbles to a start, and we begin the long drive into the cold darkness. It's not a good beginning.

_**A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed while I was on vacation! You encouraged me to write during the week to avoid falling behind. Please continue to let me know what you think as the story evolves.**_


	20. Chapter 20: Tobias - A Rough Ride

_**A/N: Sorry it took longer than usual to finish this chapter. Work is really busy right now, and it looks like that will continue for quite a while. Realistically, I may have to drop to posting once a week, but I'll keep trying for twice.**_

_**As always, thank you to everyone who reviewed! It makes such a difference seeing reviews, particularly when things are so busy. They motivate me to carve out time to write. A quick note to the guest reviewer who posted as "Sparkguest": You attempted to tell me about another fanfiction site that sounds interesting. However, this site strips out urls, so I didn't get the name you were trying to convey. Please try again, but leave out the punctuation (e.g., fanfiction net without the period), so it will be displayed. Thanks!**_

**Chapter 20: Tobias – A Rough Ride**

This ride is even more uncomfortable than the last one. We're crammed in the same tight, windowless van as last time, bumping up and down over uneven pavement and, at times, what is clearly dirt. At least the motion sickness distracts me from the claustrophobia.

We spend the first stretch of time learning about NUSA's culture, slang, and accents, to help us blend in when we get there. Pari and Margot explain everything they think we need to know, based on their time growing up in Philadelphia. It's way too much information at once for everything to stick, but we practice the most important aspects. They seem satisfied with our progress – until we work on body language.

"Do you even know how to slouch?" Margot asks me in annoyance. "You're supposed to look down-trodden, not like you have a metal rod in your back."

I grit my teeth. I've spent the last two years learning to stand up straight and look confident, and now they want me to act like I did while I was still living with my father…

Lauren answers for me. "We spend a lot of time learning _not_ to slouch in Dauntless. It's a hard habit to change."

"Well, it's a habit that will get us all killed," Margot states flatly. "So, find a way!"

I sigh, looking at the others. They're all putting on a good kicked-puppy act, even Tris, who normally looks so strong. "How are you doing it?" I ask her.

She smiles slightly as she answers, "Sometimes, it helps to show a little vulnerability, even if it's not real." I don't smile back. The comment brings up an image of her, bruised and beaten, putting on a false face to stay safe from Peter, and later from Eric. I didn't like having her do that then, and I don't like it now, but I suppose she's right. We need to look weak without really feeling that way, and a pretend fear is a decent way to do that.

"What should I fake?" I ask reluctantly.

"I hear insects are good," Uriah says with a grin.

I raise an eyebrow at him. "It probably needs a grain of truth to work, since I'm clearly not much of an actor."

Caleb suggests tentatively, "You're very protective. Maybe you could think about the little girl from the aptitude test being in danger. She's not real, so she won't trigger a strong reaction, but it might be enough."

It's not a bad idea, but before I can respond, Christina snorts loudly. "Protective? I missed that when Molly was beating the crap out of me, and when Eric made me dangle from the chasm."

Tris snaps an answer. "He wasn't there then, remember? And he did try to get Eric to let us surrender during fights."

Christina rolls her eyes and says, "Fine, then I didn't see much protectiveness when he was throwing knives at you."

"That _was_ being protective," I snarl, "since the alternative was for Eric to throw them."

Christina looks frustrated. "I'm not saying you're a bad guy or anything," she tries to clarify. "I just think you need a realistic vulnerability, and I don't think people become Dauntless instructors if they're 'very protective.'"

"They do if they're protecting their best friend's Divergent brother," Uriah answers firmly, and I feel a brief flare of gratitude. I never said it aloud, to anyone, but I guess it wasn't hard to figure out that was my primary goal when I volunteered to train this year's initiates.

"It's a moot point, anyway," Cara interrupts. As everyone looks at her, she turns to me and adds, "My observations have been that you respond to fear with strength and an excellent poker face. So, feeling vulnerable won't help you look weaker. I think you should try thinking of something relaxing instead, or even a little bit happy."

A very long pause answers that statement, but it does make sense. I've spent my whole life hiding my fears and injuries – acting like they don't exist. I only lose that control in extreme situations, and it wouldn't be helpful for me to imagine those during this mission.

"You might be right," I finally mutter.

Cara nods in acknowledgement and then reminds me, "But you're not aiming for giddy."

"Well, that eliminates all thoughts of Tris," Peter says with a smirk. "Do you even have any other happy memories?"

I glare at him. "Some," I say, though the truth is there aren't many. Most of them relate to Zeke, so I focus on those, thinking back to moments with him before I met Tris, before I worried about Eric realizing I liked her, before war broke out… Something relaxing and just a little happy… What finally comes to mind is the feeling I always got early in an evening of drinking with him, just when I started to relax but before I lost track of my thoughts. I haven't drunk like that since the night by the chasm, when I said whatever I did to Tris. I was too panicked after that, thinking about what I might have revealed, to risk drinking again, but now I focus on that feeling and try to let my body imitate it.

"Better," Margot says, evaluating me. "But relax your shoulders more."

I sink further into the feeling, sending it through my arms and shoulders, trying to imagine my grip loosening and my body stumbling a little with the first signs of drunkenness. My face goes slack with my body.

Margot finally nods in approval. "_Much_ better. Keep practicing it, though."

"In the meantime," Pari interrupts, "we need to move on to something else important – how to act when the government broadcasts a message."

The others stop their side conversations and pay attention as she continues, "They always send a mental alert first, so everyone has time to stop what they're doing. And you'll see it like a wave as everyone turns in exactly the same direction in unison and just waits. And then the message comes. Afterwards, everyone starts back up at the same time, like nothing happened. It will be hard for you to imitate that, because you obviously won't receive the alert, but if you don't follow it well, someone will notice. That will be your most vulnerable time every day."

"Are people alert during the broadcast," Tris asks, "or just at the beginning and end?"

Pari purses her lips thoughtfully at that and says, "To be honest, I don't know. I was always aware during the message, but of course I'm resistant to it, so my reaction may not be typical. People look essentially frozen during it, but I don't know if they're seeing or not. It would be safer to assume they are."

"Afterwards, are they aware that they received a message?" Caleb asks curiously.

Margot and Pari both laugh, and then Margot answers. "It's impossible to say because _no one_ talks about it. That prohibition is part of the message." That's not reassuring.

Tris frowns and asks, "Are the messages sent at a particular time of the day?"

I can see the answer on Pari's face before she says it aloud. "Not nearly as reliably as we need. They used to broadcast most often in the evening, but given everything going on right now, it's a good bet they'll be broadcasting multiple times a day at random times." Great…

"You two will both receive the messages, though, right?" Tris asks. When they nod, she continues, "So, we'll need to follow your lead. That means we'll need a signal of some kind when the message begins."

Margot shakes her head and says, "Sorry, but any kind of signal will attract attention, and it won't really give you lead time. When you see us turn the same direction as everyone else, you turn too. That's your signal."

Tris bites her lip thoughtfully, but it's Caleb who speaks next. "So, you'll always be in the lead, I assume." It's not really a question.

Pari nods. "We may split up at times, but not into more than two groups, so one of us can lead each group. And when we're driving, one of us will need to be up front and one in the back."

"What about the other vehicle?" Robert asks, startled. Trust an Amity-Abnegation mix to worry about them.

"They're all like us," Margot says. "From within NUSA, I mean. They'll be fine."

Tris' voice is suspicious as she says, "But that means they can't drink the water there, can they? How will they complete their mission and get away?"

Margot's eyes narrow, and she's silent for a very long time. Just when I think she's not going to answer, she finally says, "We all know the risks we're undertaking. They have special water bottles, and hopefully that will be enough to get them through." But it's clear from her tone that she doesn't think that's likely, and I realize they must have signed up for a suicide mission. The thought sends a chill through me, even though our mission may not be much safer.

"Even if they're captured," Margot continues, "they don't know anything about our plans, and they haven't even seen most of you, so they can't turn us in." She looks away, her face grim. And I understand the second meaning behind her words. She and Pari _can_ give us away if they're captured, so if that happens, we have to either rescue them or kill them. Judging by the expressions around the room, most of the others understand that too, but no one says anything about it. It's not exactly a friendly topic of conversation.

After a moment, Pari pulls us all together to practice responding to fake broadcasts. It's difficult to do in the van, with everyone being jostled by the constant movement, but she keeps it up for close to an hour to be sure we have a handle on it.

By the time we finish, we're all exhausted and ready to get some sleep. I return to the corner I picked earlier, and Tris sits with me as the others find spots.

When Pari turns the light out, I pull Tris against me, holding her tight to soothe the day's tensions. Even her presence isn't enough to relax me at the moment, but it helps to breathe her scent and feel her body pressed against mine. We're silent, with the others so close by, but she turns a little in my arms so she can kiss me gently under my jaw. I run my fingers through her hair and tilt her head up, kissing her slowly and deeply. A nervous excitement travels through me at doing something so private when we're in such a public place, but at the same time, it feels good, so good to kiss her right now.

"You two aren't nearly as quiet as you think you are," Peter says snidely after a moment, and we break apart quickly. My first impulse is to strangle him, but I settle for pulling Tris back into my arms and just holding her. She presses the side of her face to my chest and snuggles in to sleep. It takes a long time for slumber to find us, but eventually it does.

* * *

When I wake up at 3:30, the van is quiet and motionless. I disentangle myself carefully from Tris and climb out the door as quietly as possible. There's no way to avoid letting a blast of cold air in, but hopefully it doesn't wake anyone up. As I walk to the front, I notice the SUV sitting dark beside us, and I can just make out the shapes of four people sleeping inside it.

In the front of the van, Marcus sits in the passenger seat, dozing lightly. Amar, on the other hand, looks deeply out of it. I open his door, intending to offer to drive for a while, but I immediately realize my mistake. It's a bad idea to startle someone as deadly as Amar.

I step back quickly, raising my hand automatically to block the inevitable strike. The contact is hard anyway.

"It's Four!" I say loudly, and he pulls his hand back, staring at me for a moment. Then, he swears. Beside him, my father jumps to alertness, his eyes narrowing as he glares at me suspiciously. I ignore him.

"What the hell are you doing?" Amar asks. "You know better than that."

"Sorry. I thought I'd see if we could get moving again with another driver."

Amar looks over at the SUV. "I didn't realize they were back." He runs a hand up the back of his head. "We were sleeping while they went to bomb highway 69. I guess they were too tired to continue when they came back."

"They should have awoken us," Marcus states coldly. "One of us could have driven that vehicle. Instead, we've lost time we couldn't afford to lose." His tone implies that this is somehow my fault. I grit my teeth but don't bother responding. There's never any point in arguing when he gets like this.

Amar calmly addresses him. "I'm still pretty drowsy, so if you can drive the SUV, I'll let Four drive this one for a while."

My father glares for another moment and then departs silently. I don't watch him.

"God, he's an ass," Amar mutters as he slides over to the passenger seat. I chuckle and climb into the driver's seat.

"Every day of my life." As I adjust the seat and mirrors, I ask, "Should I follow the SUV, or are you going to stay awake to be navigator?"

"After the way you woke me, I'll be lucky to sleep again for a year." He grins. "But follow the SUV anyway. That way, they can hit the potholes, and we'll get to avoid them." I'm certainly not going to argue with that.

Amar chats idly as we start moving, bumping and rattling along the broken road. It's miserable driving in conditions like this, but in a way it's better than being in the closed-in back part. At least I can see up here.

"How far along are we?" I ask after a bit.

Amar leans forward to double-check the odometer and says, "About two-thirds of the way to Toledo. We'll stop for gas there, since there are still a lot of working stations in that area."

He settles back into his seat and asks with a yawn, "I assume you learned all about NUSA culture?" When I glance at him, I see a sly smile on his face. He must realize parts of it didn't come easily.

"Yes, apparently I'm a perfect fit for it."

He chuckles. "I'm sure you are, Four."

"You're not supposed to call me that anymore. It seems that standing up straight, being tall and stone-faced, and being called by a number is likely to attract attention."

He grins. "Who would've guessed?" But he turns serious again as he asks, "Are you okay with Tobias? Because we can use a different nickname if you want."

"It's… okay. Half the group already uses that name, so there will be fewer mess-ups if I go by it."

He nods. "I suppose it must not be too bad, or Tris wouldn't call you that."

I feel a touch of red rising up my face. "When I shared it with her, I intended it to be private." I shrug. "But it didn't work out that way."

He laughs. "Things rarely stay private when they're supposed to. When George and I first got together, we didn't want anyone to know. Partly in case it didn't work out, and partly because of the whole push for Divergent people to have kids and pass on the good genes." He shrugs. "Anyway, we thought we were so careful, but then one day Anna casually asked me if I was going to need my room that weekend or if I'd be in George's, because they needed a space for a visitor. She saw right through us."

A smile tugs at my mouth. "That doesn't surprise me. She's a lot like Tris."

"I noticed." He squirms around a bit, trying to get more comfortable. "Anyway, it worked out fine. She officiated when we exchanged rings a couple of months later."

"A couple of months?" I ask, a bit startled. "Were you in a hurry or something?"

He smiles fondly. "Sometimes, you just know it's right."

I nod, swerving around a particularly large pothole. "Yeah," I say after a moment, "I can understand that."

"That's obvious," he says with another smile. He evaluates me and then adds, "You two make a good couple, you know. I've seen a lot over the years – ones that worked and ones that didn't – and you two press the right buttons in each other."

I smile a little despite myself. There aren't many people whose opinions I care about in this world, but like it or not, Amar is one of them.

"Think you'll get married?" he asks casually – so casually that it takes a second for me to freeze in response. Then, every muscle in my body goes rigid, and it becomes difficult to steer.

I always swore to myself that I'd never get married, after watching my parents for so many years. Two months ago, I still felt that way, absolutely, unambiguously. But now…

"I don't know," I mutter stiffly. He waits in silence, and I finally admit, "I do think about it, sometimes."

He nods but doesn't say anything else. He's always been better than Zeke about not pushing a subject too far. Still, I'd rather discuss something else, so I eventually say, "I'm surprised George didn't come with us."

There's an odd mixture of sadness and relief in Amar's voice as he answers, "He couldn't. He was captured a while back, and NUSA got all his identifying information on record. It would have been a risk to all of us for him to come."

I nod, thinking about how I'd feel if I were here without Tris. I suppose it would depend on whether I felt she was safer being left behind or not, but with the city coming under attack, that's a hard question to answer.

"Did they pull you out to rescue him?" I ask after a moment.

"No," Amar says with mild surprise. "Marcus actually did that. It was a long time ago."

Every muscle in my body stiffens again. _How long ago?_

My voice is harsh when I finally find it. "Is that when he got exposed to a high dose?"

Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Amar's body language shift, tensing up before he forces himself to relax again. "No," he says softly. "He never got a high dose among the rebels. If he got one at all, it was back in Erudite as a teenager, when Jeanine was beginning her experiments. I don't know for certain either way, but it's definitely possible he got one then."

The words stir multiple thoughts at once, and I don't know which direction to follow first. Finally, I say, "That doesn't fit with the timing my mother described."

Amar raises his eyebrows. "What timing would that be?"

I clear my throat and manage to speak. "She said he spent a couple of days in the rebel camp when he first became a leader, and that he was different after that."

Amar thinks for a bit before responding. "That would be when he rescued George... But there's nothing in the records about him being exposed then, and they're really anal about those records." He tenses a bit and adds, "We're not supposed to look at other people's records, by the way, so please don't mention that to anyone. I only looked because I wanted to know more about who I was working with – you know, after seeing your fear landscape."

I nod absently. I don't care that he looked at Marcus' records. I care about whether or not they're accurate, and it sounds like they are. Does that mean my mother was simply wrong, or did the stress of the mission affect him in some manner? War certainly changes people. Maybe the serum had nothing to do with it after all.

"Anyway," Amar continues, "both of your parents, and Tris' dad for that matter, were friends with Jeanine in Erudite during their school years. We know she began experimenting with the serum around that time, and we know they had a major falling out after that, and all three of them transferred to Abnegation. There was clearly bad feeling between them afterwards, but at the same time, they kept working together, and they stayed tight-lipped about what happened... It's possible all three of them got a hefty dose, or any combination of them, or none."

I nod again, realizing I'll probably never get the full story on that, any more than Tris did before her father died. And that means I'll never know if Marcus' violence was all him or was triggered in any manner. I remember reading once in a psychology textbook that abusers aren't usually that way early in a relationship. They don't start hitting until after they're married, sometimes after they've had kids. Maybe my father's timing was typical, and it had nothing to do with anything else. Or maybe Jeanine did affect him, or the mission, or both. I clench the steering wheel hard in frustration. I want some explanation, some idea how much to hate Marcus and how much to worry about becoming like him, but I'll probably never get it.

We go over a particularly large bump, and my head hits the ceiling. I swerve around another one.

"When do you think we'll reach Toledo?" I ask, glad of an excuse to change the subject.

"Probably around dawn." He yawns, and I realize he's far more tired than he's admitting.

"Why don't you get some sleep?" I tell him. "I'm fine following the SUV, and if you rest now, you can take over later when I'm tired."

He hesitates for a moment but then nods. "Okay, but if you start getting sleepy, wake me up. It helps to talk."

"Of course." And he drifts off, leaving me driving in the darkness, mired in even darker thoughts.

_**A/N: Please take a moment to write a review. They're my biggest motivation. Thanks!**_


	21. Chapter 21: Tris - Unexpected Find

_**A/N: It's a busy week, but I'm sneaking a second update in here...**_

**Chapter 21: Tris – Unexpected Find**

We awaken to a blast of cold air mixing with Tobias' voice. "Everyone up!" he calls in his crisp instructor tone, and we jump to alertness instantly.

"We need to find a working gas station," he continues, "and the fastest way is to fan out on foot in all directions." He looks around, making sure he has our attention. "There shouldn't be anyone else here, but we'll carry our guns and travel in groups just in case."

He evaluates us for a moment before saying, "Lauren, can you take a group?" When she nods, he adds, "Take Marcus with you; he knows how to check the gas pumps. Uriah, and Lisa, you're with her. You'll be heading that way," and he points clearly to his left.

"Peter, Robert, Caleb, and Pari, you're going with Amar, that way," and he points to the right. "Tris, Christina, Cara, and Margot, you're with me, heading that way." This time, he gestures behind us. "The people in the SUV will form a fourth group that checks the stations ahead of us. Each group should travel no more than fifteen minutes, checking every station you pass. Then, if you haven't found anything, go over a block and come back along that road. This whole area uses a grid system, so you can pick a block in either direction. Check every pump at every station – we can use anything that functions."

He glances around to see if there are any questions and then states, "All right. Get guns and ammo." His face stern, he adds, "**But be careful before shooting!** You're much more likely to run into one of us than someone else, and I will not be amused if you shoot each other."

"Spoil-sport," Christina mutters under her breath, and I bite my tongue trying not to laugh.

We step out into the first light of dawn. We're in what's left of an old parking lot at one corner of an intersection. Trees have worked their way through the broken pavement in numerous places, but the roads are still visible. I shiver in the cold air, feeling the sharp edge even through my coat. The land all around us is flat, and the buildings look somewhat foreign. It's like our city and yet not.

The SUV is parked at the other end of the lot, and the four people we don't know stand with their backs to us, speaking with Amar and Marcus. I remember what Margot said last night, and realize they're probably not supposed to look at us if they can avoid it. After all, the less they know, the less they can reveal. As I watch, they head away, and Amar and Marcus walk over to join us.

Amar eyeballs the groups that Tobias formed. "Nice try, Fo – Tobias," he says with a bit of a laugh, "but Tris is with me. Peter, switch groups with her."

"What?" I demand immediately. I'm not sure if I'm annoyed because he's trying to split me apart from Tobias or because he's acting like he needs to protect me, as if I'm a helpless little girl.

He looks straight at me. "The entire point of this mission is to get one of you to the end," he says as he gestures between me and Tobias. "So, any time we split into groups, you two go different ways. It maximizes our odds. And when possible, Uriah does too, since he's your backup." I glance at Uriah in surprise, but the expression on his face shows this isn't news to him.

My response is simple. "No." When Amar raises an eyebrow, I elucidate a bit. "Tobias and I are a team. You get both of us, or neither."

"Fine," he answers without pause. "Then, you wait here. Get back in the van."

My eyes narrow coldly, but he doesn't look away. I don't know what to make of his expression – there's no anger in it, but I'm not sure I've ever seen someone look so unyielding. After a long pause, Tobias says quietly to me, "Just go with him. This isn't the time for a fight." I turn to him, staring disbelievingly. We agreed to stay together, and at the first opportunity, he's dropping that? Of course he is, I realize. As long as I'm safe, he doesn't think it's a problem. It apparently doesn't matter whether I know he's safe or not.

I guess he sees the bitterness in my face, because he reminds me, "We didn't set any conditions up front, and this isn't the time to add them. We'll talk to him later." A thousand retorts come to mind, but the set of his face tells me they won't do any good, and my bitterness turns to cold anger. If he won't stand up for our deal, why should I?

I turn my back on him and walk to Amar's group. Tobias reaches for my arm as I pass, but I pull it out of reach and keep marching, refusing to meet his eyes or let him touch me.

Amar looks at me for another moment, but I just stare straight ahead, and finally he says, "All right, let's go."

We begin walking down the center of a wide road that used to contain multiple lanes. As with the parking lot, cracks and splits cover its surface like a spider web, with plants growing in them. We must not be in the middle of the city, because the blocks are large here, and the buildings are short and surrounded by vegetation. For some two hundred feet, we see nothing but trees on both sides of the road. Perhaps there was a park here that has since overgrown, but it's strange to me to see so many trees together with no sign of human habitation among them. It brings to mind forests I've read about but never seen.

Animals scurry nearby, startling us with each movement. I keep pointing my gun, only to realize I'm aiming at a squirrel or bird or some creature I've never seen before. Caleb is equally jumpy, though Robert appears calmer. I suppose he became accustomed to trees and animals during his time in Amity, or maybe he simply has a more relaxed personality than my brother and I do.

At first, I'm relieved when we get past the trees and into an old shopping center. But the emptiness has an eerie quality to it that makes me twitch. As with the forested area, we see movements and hear periodic noises as animals scurry around the buildings and parking lots that nature is reclaiming. We stop at a gas station that has a battered Shell sign still standing by a half-collapsed building. Amar tries all the pumps as the rest of us stand guard, each facing a different direction.

"No luck," he says after the last one. "Let's keep moving."

We continue past more shopping areas, and I find myself focused on a sign that says, "aff e H." When we get closer, I see a second sign and figure out the missing letters. "Waffle House." I have no idea what that is.

"There's another station up there," Robert says, gesturing to the other side of the road, some two hundred feet ahead. I can't make out the sign on it, but I see the unmistakable shape of pumps and realize he's right. Amar turns back to us, starting to respond, when the first shot rings out.

My pulse leaps into my throat, adrenaline making time slow down as I whirl, trying to find the shooter. Around me, I can sense more than see the others doing the same thing.

"There," Pari shouts, pointing at the gas station, and I see a large brown and green vehicle partially hidden behind the back set of pumps. "NUSA military!"

There's a flicker of movement, and Amar, Pari, and I all aim at it as we begin running for the nearest shelter – a narrow alleyway between two buildings, with trees growing in front of it. It's close to a hundred feet away.

Our shots sound along with those of our attackers, followed by the rapid pat-pat-pat of a machine gun. With my free hand, I grab Caleb's arm and haul him forward, hard, forcing him to run faster than he thinks he can. I shouldn't care about him right now, but I do. I don't entirely know why.

It seems to take forever to reach the alley, but finally we pile into it, huddling together at the entrance so we can look for a clear shot. But it's no good – from here, our attackers are completely blocked from view.

"Let's go on through," I shout, continuing along the alleyway, and the others follow me without question. When we reach the other end, I peer cautiously around the corner, but I can't see the gas station from here either – just the back of the building that's shielding us and another set of trees at the far corner of it. I nod toward the trees and start in that direction, but Amar grabs my shoulder firmly and steps in front of me.

"Wait here until I signal you," he whispers, and he begins moving with silent precision along the back of the building, his gun held in front of him. When he reaches the trees, I can tell he sees our attackers, because he crouches down and begins firing in rapid succession. Someone screams in pain, and then shouts and gunfire fill the air.

Pari and I both race toward Amar, and a split second later, Caleb follows. Pari takes up a position behind a tree and begins shooting too, but as I start to join them, Amar yells fiercely, "Stay back!"

"Forget it!" I snarl, moving forward, only to feel Caleb's hand clamp on my arm.

"Beatrice," he says desperately, "you can't. We need you too much."

I yank my arm free as I whirl on him, ready to strike the way I did during practice, but at the last second, I stop myself and just glare at him instead. He stands there, looking frightened but determined, and suddenly I notice something I should have before. My eyes move beyond him to the alleyway we ran through as a cold weight drops into my stomach.

"Where's Robert?" I ask tensely, trying to remember if I've seen him since the first shot sounded.

Caleb twists around to look, and then turns back to me, his eyes filled with horror. "I don't know," he whispers.

My feet start moving before I realize what I'm doing, racing back the way we came. Caleb runs beside me. We stop where we entered the alleyway, scanning the route we followed, but a shot to my left distracts me. I peer carefully across the front of the building. A minute ago, we couldn't see anything from here, but now two attackers stand at the far front corner of the building. They're using it as a shield to shoot at Amar and Pari.

"I'll take the taller one," I whisper to Caleb, so quietly he couldn't hear me if he wasn't pressed to my side. "You take the other."

I can hear him swallow. He's never had to kill someone before, but it's us or them right now. Or more accurately, it's them or everyone back home.

I aim, feeling the ghost of Tobias' hands on my arms as I do so. "On three," I whisper, and he nods. "One, two, three." Our guns sound simultaneously, and both figures drop to the ground. They don't move afterwards.

"Do you think there are more?" Caleb asks shakily.

"Always assume so," I respond tersely as I check the visible area. There's no one upright, but my eyes land on a form crumpled at the side of the road. Robert. My heart jumps. _Is he injured or dead?_

I hear more shots, a little farther away now, and realize Amar and Pari must have moved to the clump of trees at the back of the gas station. They'll be firing from behind now, which means our attackers will be looking that direction. This is our chance… There's another clump of trees between us and the gas station. If we skirt along the front of the building, it's only a short run to those, and they'll provide cover while we fire from the side. I start to move, but as he did earlier, Caleb pulls me back.

"They have this, Beatrice. Let them do it."

"You don't know that," I respond angrily. "And I won't just sit around while they die."

The next words jerk out of him unexpectedly. "You didn't say goodbye to Tobias. If anything happens to you, he'll never forgive himself." I freeze, staring at him. His eyes burn with an intensity I've never seen before, and slowly I realize he's right.

_Why did I leave like that? Why didn't I kiss him, tell him I love him…_ I swallow the bile, trying to figure out if I can do what Caleb is asking. Stay here and let others handle this. But more shots sound, and I know I can't. I just can't.

Caleb recognizes the look in my eyes, and he closes his own in resignation. "Okay, but I go first," he finally whispers. And without waiting for an answer, he starts across the front of the building. As I watch him, something clicks into place deep inside me. He's my brother again.

When he reaches the corner of the building, he steps carefully over the dead bodies and peers around the side of the building. There must be nothing there, because he races for the trees ahead, stopping behind one to look again. After a moment, he turns to me and gestures that it's clear. I reach him so quickly I'm not sure my feet touch the ground in between.

There are a half dozen people in green and brown uniforms scattered around the vehicle and gas pumps. They're exchanging fire with Amar and Pari, who are stationed exactly where I imagined. This time, I pick two targets for myself, though I only assign one to Caleb. His aim isn't as fast as mine. We fire on "three" again. The soldiers are still falling as I turn to my second target, firing as soon as I have a decent shot. I can tell immediately that she's only wounded, but it's a hit to the torso, and she drops to the ground in pain.

The others retreat, trying to find shelter that hides them from both angles of attack, but Amar and Pari pick them off as they run for the next set of trees.

It's quiet after the last one falls, except for a low moaning coming from the soldier I injured. We wait, making sure no one else is hiding, but eventually Amar and Pari emerge from cover, holding their guns ready in front of them as they scan the area and the building to make sure all our attackers are down.

Pari stops over the wounded soldier, apparently debating what to do. I'm suddenly sure she's about to fire again, and I run forward. It's foolish to care about the life of someone I just tried to kill, but now that the soldier is no longer a threat, it feels wrong to shoot her.

As I get closer, I can see that she's bleeding heavily from a wound to her side. With proper medical care, it could be treated, but here, it's probably fatal. I bite my lip. I've killed before, and I've seen people die up close, but never that combination. I don't want to watch her die, but I can't look away.

Caleb comes up beside me, staring too. After a long time, he asks, "Should we try to question her before.. you know?" Pari nods, her mouth set in a tense line.

"We probably won't get anything," she says quietly, so only we can hear, "but sometimes the serum has strange effects as someone is dying, and they tell you all kinds of things. We'll try."

Suddenly, it's too much to take. My hands ball into fists, and I walk away, fast, back to the road. I need to see if Robert is still alive. I need to at least see his face one last time. Caleb goes with me.

Robert lies at the side of the road, curled into a fetal position, his hands resting over his abdomen. No… They _were_ resting there, but now they hang limp, covered with blood. A dark red pool surrounds his motionless form. His body. That's what death is, changing us from a person to an empty body.

His face is pale, drained of all color, and I stare at it. Robert is in so many of my memories, almost as many as Caleb or my parents. In my mind, I see him again, rolling his eyes as Caleb and Susan flirted. If we'd both stayed in Abnegation, we probably would have ended up married – not because I was particularly drawn to him, but because that's how things work in Abnegation. And yet I didn't even notice when he chose Amity, and I barely spoke with him the few times I saw him after that. Even worse, I realize with a twinge that I feel through my entire body, I rejected the last hug he offered me.

Caleb's quiet sob catches my attention, his pain mirroring mine. "He died alone," Caleb whispers, and I bite my lip again, trying to blink back the tears. But it's no use. The Abnegation reject most forms of physical contact, but when I turn to Caleb, neither of us even hesitates. We wrap our arms around each other, holding tightly as we both cry for the friend whose gentle laughter we'll never hear again.

After a very long time, what feels like forever, I pull away. I press my hands to my face to erase the tears, and we walk back to the gas station.

Amar and Pari are still questioning the soldier, and I don't want to hear that conversation, so I climb in the back of the vehicle. It seems huge, with benches all around the inside walls and weapons in racks above those. Large containers are secured in place on the floor, and a quick look reveals they're filled with supplies.

Something nags at me as I look around, but it doesn't come together until Caleb voices it. "Beatrice," he says softly, "this must hold at least twenty people. Where are all the others?"

I meet his gaze as my insides turn to ice. We fought eight – maybe a third of the total. "They must have split up like we did." And that means… _"We need to find Tobias, now."_

As I finish the words, we hear gunfire begin in the distance.

_**A/N: A huge thank you to everyone who's reviewed! I really, really appreciate it. Your words keep me writing at busy times like this...**_


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